Driving always felt terrifying to me. It wasn’t just about the mechanics of it. It was the idea of being in control, or of being responsible for something that could go wrong so fast. That fear kept me from getting my permit, even though my parents had been pushing me to do it ever since college decisions came out.
To be honest, I had planned to take the permit test last summer before college started. But every time I thought about it, anxiety took over. Instead of admitting that, I snapped back at my parents with, “I’ll get it when I need to.“ Deep down, I knew I was just scared.
But this summer was different. I entered this summer with the thought of being a different version of myself. Part of it was because I was fed up with myself. I was fed up with the constant failures I have been witnessing.
In college, I’m always the one catching up. The one figuring things out while others seem to be fine. And at home, I could feel the weight my parents were carrying—stress from work, bills, responsibilities piling up. They never said the words, but I sensed it through their words. And on top of it all, they were worried about me. Not out of disappointment, but concern. They saw me struggling in college, academically, socially, and emotionally, and they didn’t know how to help. And I didn’t know how to fix all this.
This summer, I had made all these plans: To run every day. To eat healthy. To get a job. To become that version of myself I’ve always pictured—strong, disciplined, confident. But one by one, I failed to follow through. I let myself down. Again and again.
So I decided that I needed to take one step. Just one. And that step was getting my permit. I wanted to push myself out there and get that license. I know it’s just a test, but to me, it was like finding a different kind of confidence. I took my first driving lesson on June 18th. I remember sitting in the car, gripping the steering wheel like it was about to run away from me.
Fast forward to lesson ten—my hands don’t shake anymore. My turns are smoother. I don’t have to overthink where to look or when to signal. In parallel parking and U-turns, I don’t hold my breath anymore.
The night before the test, I couldn’t sleep. I kept imagining every possible way I could mess up. At the testing site, my hands felt cold, my stomach twisted into knots. I kept telling myself to stay calm, but inside, fear was bubbling up. My instructor kept saying, “It’s okay if you don’t pass the first time; most people don’t.” And he is right. But I didn’t have it in me to fail. Not this test.
This wasn’t just about getting a license. It was about proving to myself that I could face my fears, that I could do something hard and come out on the other side.
Guess what? I passed. Yes, on my first try.
But I know this isn’t a magic fix for everything. It won’t suddenly solve all my problems or answer every question I have about college, my future, or who I want to be. What it did do, though, was to give me confidence. Remind me that progress doesn’t have to be perfect or immediate. Sometimes, it’s just about showing up, trying anyway, and trusting in yourself.
That’s the lesson I’m holding onto from this summer is the courage to start, even when I am scared.
Driving always felt terrifying to me. It wasn’t just about the mechanics of it. It was the idea of being in control, or of being responsible for something that could go wrong so fast. That fear kept me from getting my permit, even though my parents had been pushing me to do it ever since college decisions came out.
To be honest, I had planned to take the permit test last summer before college started. But every time I thought about it, anxiety took over. Instead of admitting that, I snapped back at my parents with, “I’ll get it when I need to.“ Deep down, I knew I was just scared.
But this summer was different. I entered this summer with the thought of being a different version of myself. Part of it was because I was fed up with myself. I was fed up with the constant failures I have been witnessing.
In college, I’m always the one catching up. The one figuring things out while others seem to be fine. And at home, I could feel the weight my parents were carrying—stress from work, bills, responsibilities piling up. They never said the words, but I sensed it through their words. And on top of it all, they were worried about me. Not out of disappointment, but concern. They saw me struggling in college, academically, socially, and emotionally, and they didn’t know how to help. And I didn’t know how to fix all this.
This summer, I had made all these plans: To run every day. To eat healthy. To get a job. To become that version of myself I’ve always pictured—strong, disciplined, confident. But one by one, I failed to follow through. I let myself down. Again and again.
So I decided that I needed to take one step. Just one. And that step was getting my permit. I wanted to push myself out there and get that license. I know it’s just a test, but to me, it was like finding a different kind of confidence. I took my first driving lesson on June 18th. I remember sitting in the car, gripping the steering wheel like it was about to run away from me.
Fast forward to lesson ten—my hands don’t shake anymore. My turns are smoother. I don’t have to overthink where to look or when to signal. In parallel parking and U-turns, I don’t hold my breath anymore.
The night before the test, I couldn’t sleep. I kept imagining every possible way I could mess up. At the testing site, my hands felt cold, my stomach twisted into knots. I kept telling myself to stay calm, but inside, fear was bubbling up. My instructor kept saying, “It’s okay if you don’t pass the first time; most people don’t.” And he is right. But I didn’t have it in me to fail. Not this test.
This wasn’t just about getting a license. It was about proving to myself that I could face my fears, that I could do something hard and come out on the other side.
Guess what? I passed. Yes, on my first try.
But I know this isn’t a magic fix for everything. It won’t suddenly solve all my problems or answer every question I have about college, my future, or who I want to be. What it did do, though, was to give me confidence. Remind me that progress doesn’t have to be perfect or immediate. Sometimes, it’s just about showing up, trying anyway, and trusting in yourself.
That’s the lesson I’m holding onto from this summer is the courage to start, even when I am scared.
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By Marzia Seemat
Marzia Seemat is a sophomore at NYU studying civil engineering and creative writing. She loves being close to nature, especially at the beach. Her favorite things include good food, morning tea, hour-long movies, and spending time with the people she loves.
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