False Prophet

At the beginning of this year I told almost anyone who would listen that this was the year I would get my drivers license. I’ve been saying that for years now, but I meant it this time. I meant it all the other times, too, but I meant it differently this year.

When I was 16 I took drivers ed, and then I failed the permit test. I was crushed. I felt stupid and like a specific person had been right when he said I would be a bad driver. I studied more, took the test again, and failed it a second time. I took months off before finally passing the test at 18 right before moving to Walla Walla. That alone was a big deal. I didn’t feel stupid anymore.

But there was a problem- how do you learn how to drive when you’re in college two states away from anyone who will lend you their car? My instruction permit expired and I was back to square one. During the pandemic I drove my grandparents’ car around their neighborhood to try to grow my confidence. But I hit curb after curb and was too scared to back out of the driveway or go around tight curves. “You’ll be a bad driver” was all I heard. It circled around my head every time I forgot to turn off my turn signal or thought about going on the freeway.

Whenever someone asked, I was full of excuses for why I didn’t drive. “I don’t need a car in Walla Walla, I can walk almost everywhere.” “Seattle has busses, I’ll be totally fine.” “I live a mile away from everywhere I work, anyway.” They were all true, but they were also ways of silencing the voice in my head that told me I would be a bad driver. If it didn’t matter that I didn’t drive, that statement didn’t matter either.

I moved back to Walla Walla eventually post-pandemic, and spent a summer living alone. That was a big summer for me, full of challenging preconceived notions about who I was and what I was capable of. I ended up studying for and passing the Washington state knowledge test (first try!). But then there was a family emergency and a few weeks after that my dog died. So the permit expired without me getting behind the wheel at all.

After I graduated college I moved back to California. That was a terrible summer but I had a really good therapist who, with a calm voice and steady hand, guided me around the things I told myself that just weren’t true. I made a list of things I could do to challenge those beliefs, and driving was one of them. I took the California knowledge test again and passed (that’s 5 knowledge tests, for those keeping track). But then I challenged myself a little too close to the sun and wound up moving to Seattle six months earlier than planned.

And moving to Seattle was hard. There was a big learning curve and a long adjustment period. It took me two years to feel settled enough in my work and in myself enough to even think about driving again. But in January of this year, I felt ready. I studied for a long time and took the permit test at a driving school. The questions were different from the study guide I had memorized (5 tries will do that to you), but I passed. And this time, I had driving lessons lined up.

I can’t even begin to tell you how nervous I was for my first lesson. I knew how to drive, but I was scared. I was scared I’d go too slow or too fast, or somehow stall an automatic car. But I kept telling myself, over and over, that even taking one lesson was further than I had gotten so far. That alone was worth celebrating.

So I took lessons for two weeks. And throughout those 90 minutes of driving on Tuesdays and Saturdays, I felt the “you’ll be a bad driver” voice be replaced by “I have good wheel control,” and “I’m good at parallel parking,” and “My reaction time is solid.” Even the things I struggled with at first got better over time. I started to believe it when the instructor said I was a good driver.

I took the road skills test and I passed. First try. Almost 9 years later, but first try. Because I am a good driver. I’m new, and I’m still learning. I’m not perfect. But I am a good driver.

When I think about the 9 years between doing drivers ed and taking the driving test, I think about a lot of people. The people who tried to teach me to drive but we were all nervous for our own reasons. The people in my class who got their license at 16. The people who drove me places. The people who wanted me to succeed. The people who built me up. The people who marched their way into my brain to say that other people were wrong. He was just wrong.

This milestone is a testament to all of those people, in their own way. But mostly, it’s a testament to me and all the things I’ve done in the last 9 years. They’ve all led me here, in one way or another. I’m really proud of this. And that alone is worth celebrating.