I don’t drive much anymore. In fact, since moving to Brooklyn, most of my time in my car is spent looking for parking spots to accommodate the inconveniently scheduled alternate side parking regulations in my neighborhood. It’s a hassle to accomplish this, to crawl slowly through a crowded neighborhood, leaning forward, ever vigilant, until my back aches with tension.

Some nights I sit with the windows rolled down, scrolling through my phone, allowing myself a few moments of being completely and perfectly alone. The only sounds are the radio and the vague murmur of life happening outside the barrier of steel and glass.

I won’t give it up. Driving is freedom, and that freedom brought me to college and to internships in exotic, far-off places like Louisville, Kentucky. I’ve collected miles from Maine to Miami, often alone, and I’ve loved every moment. Owning a car may cost me more time and money than I can reasonably afford right now, but it gives me so much in return. How could I give up the ability to escape, on a long drive or in the brief moments before I roll up the windows, extract my keys, and rejoin the world?

Follow along on my quest to make diet culture another millennial casualty. Find me on Insta @life_after_diets

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