(Photo: SOCMIA Fotografía/Unsplash)
I was stoked when I got my driver’s license. When I passed the test, I sent my friends a Snapchat message, “Road trip anyone? #Licensed!” But then the responsibility of driving hit me.
I had a vision for my life with a car. I know it sounds cheesy, but I pictured my friends and I with the windows rolled down, music blasting, and hands in the air.
Then my mom left town for a week! No mom and a car — sounds like the best thing to have ever happened to me, right? Wrong.
I became a chauffeur for my friends, and when we were out partying, I wound up as the designated driver. I had to pay for gas. And worst of all , I got a one hundred and ten dollar parking ticket. I sat in the driver’s seat and cried, before moving the car.
It’s funny, how fast this privilege became a burden. For years, I fantasized about the freedom of driving. But now, the responsibilities of it are weighing me down. And I’m beginning to wonder if the rest of adulthood will be similarly bittersweet.