I’m still learning. I’m still making mistakes. I’m still driving.

I remember the first time I drove; it was scary, and nerve-wracking, and I hoped to dear god that I wouldn’t piss off the other drivers on the road by making a mistake. I was always aware of the other cars near me, especially the cars that were tailing me. Often, I gave into peer pressure I most probably made up in my own head and sped up and matched the speeds of all the other cars around me, who were clearly going over the speed limit. That’s another thing I learned: no one really drives the speed limit.

I grew to like driving. There was something about being in control of a two ton hunk of metal that was calming. Taking control of the wheel felt somewhat akin to taking control of my life. I can drive where I want, when I want, and I don’t need to depend on others for rides anymore. I found freedom in driving.

Another thing I loved about driving was that I never felt queasy while doing it. I have a history of car sickness, and my parents had to learn to drive very smoothly, as in nice turns and no abrupt breaking, whenever I was in the car. However, when I was the driver, I found that I could to anything I wanted and not feel an ounce of nausea. Of course, I still drove with awareness to the other people in the car with me, I didn’t want them to feel queasy. Being in control of a car, knowing every move it made because I commanded it, and being in deep focus on the road took away my car sickness.

Of course driving isn’t all fun and freedom. As I was learning, I found that whenever my parents yelled at me for mistakes, I lost confidence, became more cautious and nervous, and then made even more mistakes. To me, driving is all about caution and confidence. You shouldn’t be a wuss on the road, but don’t be so confident that you make moves you shouldn’t or break the law. Be considerate of others, and always, always, be careful.


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