Help! I Put Off Learning This Very Important Adult Skill. It’s Coming Back to Haunt Me.
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I’m 26 and I’m terrified to drive. I never got my license, and when I was initially planning to get it, the pandemic happened, so I never did. Then, I just kept putting it off. For my entire life, either my parents or boyfriend drove me places.
Now my boyfriend is starting a new office job and won’t be available to drive me around anymore. We both agree that it would be nice if I could do this myself, and if we’re being real, I think he resents having to drive me places. I’m seriously considering whether it would be easier to move across the country to a walkable city and leave our lifelong suburb than learn how to drive. How am I supposed to overcome the fear of piloting a giant machine that could cause a lot of harm if I do it wrong or make a mistake?
—Cowering Behind the Wheel
Dear Cowering Behind the Wheel,
I’m with you! I feel like nobody talks enough about the “piloting a giant machine that could cause a lot of harm if I do it wrong or make a mistake” part of driving. How are so many people so casual about it?
As you can tell, I have my fair share of driving anxiety. But I also drive regularly. So there’s hope. Now, yes, I do refuse to change lanes under any amount of pressure, or in a way that involves shoving my car in front of another one. I’ll just keep driving until I get to a point where I can get to where I need to go without risking my life. I won’t talk on the phone if I’m going somewhere new and need to concentrate. And I consider myself too impaired to get behind the wheel if I’ve had one sip of wine because I believe the extremely high-risk job requires 200 percent of my concentration.
But I can do it, and most of the time I feel fine. I have written before about how one thing that made a big difference for me was the revelation that a small mistake on my part wouldn’t immediately lead to death or even a fender bender. Because everyone else on the road is also trying to prevent accidents just as much as I am. They’re not just going to sit there and let another car crash into them—they will do everything in their power to prevent that from happening. Maybe that thought soothes you, too? Or perhaps my dad’s wisdom about the fact that you can always turn the car around instead of trying a risky maneuver can help you, like it did me.
You should give yourself a chance to become comfortable behind the wheel by starting small. It’s overwhelming to think of driving yourself everywhere you need to go. So don’t think about that. Study for and take the written part of the driving test. And then get someone to help you practice behind the wheel, in a huge parking lot where you can make as many mistakes as you want without any consequences. Next, try a big, wide, empty road with very few other cars. Then quiet neighborhood streets. I think you’ll feel your confidence building at each of these steps, until you get to the point where you’re comfortable driving wherever you need to in order to take the driving test and get your license. If you find you’re still panicking every time you get behind the wheel, it’s worth looking into therapy and the possibility of treating any underlying anxiety that could be behind your fear.
That’s a process, I know. In the meantime, you have a boyfriend who doesn’t want to chauffeur you. To avoid that strain, and the feeling of being rushed, allow yourself to use rideshare services for the time being when you need to get somewhere. The average cost of owning a car is about $1,000 per month. You’re not paying that. Even if you halve that or more, it’s a decent budget for getting where you need to go for now. Hopefully, many of your evening and weekend outings will be alongside your boyfriend anyway. So work on conquering your fear little by little, step by step, without putting too much pressure on yourself. Remind yourself that you don’t have to do any step before you’re ready—and that a walkable city in another part of the country will always be there if you’ve tried driving in a low-pressure way and it still feels too terrifying. But I don’t think you’ll need it.
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There is a child at my son’s school (he’s in first grade) who I see waiting to be picked up when I come to get my son after school, whose clothes are consistently mismatched and dirty. One would think that the school would contact his parents, but each time I see him, it’s the same story. Would it be worthwhile to ask the school to look into his situation just to be on the safe side?
Hopefully, you’re looking at a child whose clothes are mismatched because he picks them out himself, and dirty because he’s been playing hard at recess. But if your instincts are right and he’s in fact not being well cared for, getting help for him will, unfortunately, not be as simple as contacting the school and telling them to do something. Educators are mandatory reporters of suspected child abuse and neglect, so if the child’s situation rises to a level that requires them to take action, they’ve probably already done what they can.
I do think, though, there are things you could do to potentially make a difference for this kid, but they require a big investment of time and energy. If you’re up for it and he’s a similar age to your son, you could orchestrate a friendship and play dates between the kids, and a connection between you and his parents. Maybe they’ll open up and ask for help. Or maybe you could accidentally double-order the next haul of final sale clothes you get for your son and offer them the duplicate items. You could at least make sure he has enough to eat when he comes to your house.
Perhaps there’s a bigger project you could take on to organize to stock a closet at the school with clothes, laundry soap, toiletries, and other supplies that families can help themselves to if needed. Because even if you can’t help this kid directly, he’s definitely not the only one of your son’s classmates whose family could use a little help.
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I have a very low-stakes question. I love solving and completing puzzles. My husband proposed to me with a complex series of puzzles that tied into a scavenger hunt, and I’ve completed the New York Times crossword every day since I was in college. This is my thing.
However, I’ve never been good at cryptic crosswords. I decided this is the year I would get better and learn a new skill. I solve various puzzles and clues about 60 percent of the time, while other times I need outside help and prompts. So my question is, when can I say I also solve cryptic crosswords? I don’t want to give people false ideas about my abilities, but I want to celebrate my progress. When is one good enough at a new hobby to associate themselves with it?
—Viewing a Friend’s Vocabulary Puzzle
The word you’re looking for is “do” as in “I do cryptic crossword puzzles.” You could even try “working on.” As long as you don’t say, “I singlehandedly solve them every time with no help,” (which would be obnoxious anyway!), you’re in the clear.
I’m a woman who recently got engaged to my boyfriend of four years, “Mark.” In most areas of life, Mark is a kind, forgiving, considerate, and warm person. The exception is with regard to his blood relations. He is estranged from his family, and whenever he talks about them (rarely), it is with genuine hatred and contempt that I find disconcerting.