Lessons Learned: The Car is a Metaphor

I’m a pretty easygoing person most of the time. I’m not a fan of anger or how it makes me feel. That’s not to say I don’t get angry. We all do, and I recently had an episode I’m not very proud of. 

I was shopping with my youngest son when I received a text from my middle child, my daughter. She asked me to bring the title of her freshly-paid-off car to a dealership so she could trade it in. This was the car that I bought her on her 16th birthday. I had just paid it off – early - a few weeks before. 

I saw red.  

I’m not completely sure why I got so angry. Disappointed, I could understand. Maybe even aggravated. But I was downright mad.  

In hindsight, it’s a very silly thing to get angry over. Still, I had my reasons. I was extremely proud of that car. As a teenager, I was given a lump of rust that looked like it may or may not have been a vehicle at some point in time. I was told if I could make it run, I could drive it.  

From that point on, I moved from one beater to the next, thanking the Auto Gods - or, rather, the AutoZone, every time the vehicle started. In fact, I didn’t own a vehicle with air conditioning until I was in my 30s. So, when I could give my daughter a reliable car that she would be proud to drive, I was proud of myself.  

This was more than just her first car. To me, it symbolized a point of success. It meant I could provide something for my kids that was better than the opportunity I had. The fact that this car would be paid off by the time she moved out and started her own life added to my feeling of accomplishment. 

Recapping that day in the grocery store, I just received the title after paying the car off early and then the text rolls in. If you were shopping beside me, you would have probably noticed the redness of my face and steam blowing out of my ears. I was livid. How could she just throw away this huge accomplishment of mine? I worked so hard for this!  

Me. Me. Me. 

After my blood stopped boiling and I could see clearly, I remembered this car wasn’t about me or my accomplishments. This is her moment and her life. She gets to write her own story. It’s not always going to line up with how I think that story should read. If it’s a mistake to jump into an unnecessary car payment, it’s her mistake to make. However, I don’t actually think that’s the case.  

She’s worked very hard and landed an amazing job. She already makes more money than her dad. So perhaps a little of my anger came from jealousy. I hope so because I want my kids to have a life that I’m jealous of. Isn’t that our job as parents, to give them better opportunities and a better life than we had?  

She’s well on her way - a new house, a great job and, yes, she bought her new car. It’s some sort of spaceship that has conveniences that I didn’t know existed. If the car ends up being a mistake, it’s still much better than the mistakes that my parents had to watch me make in my 20s and in my 30s and, well, you get the picture.  

However, I don’t think it will be. I sincerely hope it’s not. I’m rooting for all of them, and my new source of pride is bragging about how well they’re doing as they start their adult lives. It’s a huge win for their mother and me. And after all, isn’t that what it’s all about?  

Me. Me. Me.