The true love of my life has 4 wheels & a handbrake
I love my car more than the kids at the moment, and that's the bottom line Jeremy.
There are few things I love more than being in the car, not because I love BeiNg On The OpEn Road, or that I like being out and about - quite the opposite. I love being my own little metal sanctuary, filled with receipts, a half eaten nature valley bar and a pink, diamanté bin filled with chewed gum.
My car is the one place where everything feels aligned - a space where my brain is active, but not overactive. My thoughts have space to roam free, but a focus to bring them right back. It’s like a little holiday for my senses. Let me explain:
It’s one of the only places I feel in control
In my car, I choose everything.
The music. The temperature. The smell. The people in it. The vibe. Are we using this trip to the co-op to relive my childhood, belting out Rock DJ with happy ears in my eyes? Are we using it to rehearse an argument I wish I didn’t stutter over last year? Are we using it to sing my way out of a panic attack and the spiralling around getting older? All up to me.
That kind of sensory and social control is gold dust to me, when the rest of the world feels like I’ve been thrust into the limelight of a chaotic improv show that I’m an underprepared, understudy for.
I’m not expected to be anything other than exactly here
It - to me - feels like the closest I’ll ever get to time travel. My car is a magical machine that transports me into a third space. Not home, not work, not the gym, not a friend’s house - a space that wants nothing from me (bar of course, my full attention & some charge lol).
It’s a break from the constant communication, from people-pleasing, from pinging between tabs or opinions or decisions. It is a space where nothing can be done other than the task at hand, and I find it hard to think of anywhere else that is the same.
My darling car won’t judge me
My gorgeous Ford Explorer (this is insane to write, but this is on loan to me whilst I work with them for the next year) is too busy driving to notice what I’m doing. It’s so sure of itself, it doesn’t need to analyse or question or confront me.
The closest comparison of how it feels to get in the car, is like the sheer relief you get when the ball of your foot touches the floor of your living room, after undoing the final buckle on a particularly uncomfortable pair of heels after an all-day wedding. I get into my car after work, a party, an interaction in Tesco - and feel my heavy mask being lifted off my face.
I can be entirely myself in the car. I can scream, cry, sing, screech, fart. Often all at once, actually.
It gave me the gift of freedom
I had no idea when I passed my driving test at 18, quite what a monumental moment that was.
As an anxious, neurodivergent person - being somewhere without an exit plan always felt unbearable. Whether that was uni, a social event, or even sometimes being at home with my own ruminating thoughts.
My darling black Ford Ka my parents got me for my 18th really gave me the ability to decide myself when I’ve had enough. Ironically, the new found control of being able to leave, meant I had the confidence to show up to things in the first place. It opened my world up, and for that I’ll be forever grateful.
My car evolution
I cried when my little ‘05 plate Ford KA had to be scrapped, but I also cried when I sat for the first time in my Ford Explorer (show off). I work with Ford, and I dread the day I have to give it back, as it holds so many memories for me now. This car is the ultimate third-space comfort. There is nowhere I’d rather be than in my car. Here are some of the things I love about it:
Heated seats, steering wheel & an entirely customisable AC system
B&O sound system - perfect for my own in-car concerts
It projects directions & speed on the windscreen - so you feel entirely in control
The glass ceiling - makes the car feel like a spaceship
It parks itself (?!) - first time parallel parking in 13 years.
So this is my love haiku to my car
The gum graveyard bin.
Therapy in second gear.
Rock DJ, I’m free.
