I finally got my drivers license. It’s March and I’m 16, and I’m thrilled that I’ve earned the independence I’ve been craving for years. I arrived at the driving school fifteen minutes before my test time which was 10 AM. My mom came with me and we were prepared with my permit and my logged 40 hours of driving experience. The driving test was much shorter and much easier than I expected. A few minutes in, I was chatting casually with the DMV agent about college admissions. I realized this coming-of-age moment wasn’t nearly as vicious or horrifying as I predicted. I passed, and I felt ecstatic. I drove my mom home, dropped her off, and drove to the beach on my own for the first time. I blasted my favorite Beyoncé songs and drove slowly. I felt free, I felt complete, and I felt less afraid of growing up.
I knew I had practiced well and that I was safe. I knew I was qualified to wield the power of driving a car. I walked to the water at the beach and touched it to connect with the energy in it that I constantly crave. No one walking on the beach knew how momentous and new this moment was for me, and I liked that. I felt normal, and I felt grateful.
Later in the day, my mom pointed out that it was sad spring break was ending soon, and that she wished we could have more vacation. I responded to her saying that the day just driving and appreciating my life was just as great if not better than a vacation to a faraway place. I hope to maintain my sense of wonder and gratitude by exercising my right to joy and music in the car during my remaining weeks of school this year.
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