So, I don’t drive.
I can hear you gasping from here. It’s the response I usually get when people discover this fact about me. Followed by “You don’t drive?!” , possibly in case I had said I don’t jive. Which I don’t really either, but you know, not so gasp-worthy.
Since I’ve been not-driving for 38 years, I am used to facing this incredulity, although it has really only hotted up over the last fifteen years or so. People were less concerned when I was in nappies. I understand that I am a licenseless anomaly in a world of cars, and that to some people this is incomprehensible. When people wonder how I get around, I usually reply honestly about using local facilities and public transport, saving car-necessary travel for weekends and evenings when my husband is home. I occasionally get a little annoyed by obvious scorn, but I’m a fairly affable lass, so I try not to bite back. Sometimes, just for kicks, I channel my inner-Blanche Dubois and breathily coo “I have always relied on the kindness of strangers” and bat my eyelids and try to draw attention to my bosom. This usually ceases the line of questioning, and indeed the conversation altogether most of the time.
Some curious folks want to know my reason for not driving. Truth be told, there isn’t really a reason. Not a single one anyway. The reason for not learning when I was 17 was different to the reason for not learning when I was 23 which is again different to why I still don’t drive now. It is more complex than just lack of interest, although that has become a major factor, but there is no deep, dark underlying story behind it either. I just don’t.
One thing I have found is that not driving has its benefits. My life is slower than most. My children’s lives by extension are also slower. They have never had to spend afternoons ferrying between activities or appointments, because I try to keep as much as possible in our local area. In doing so, I have felt a real connection with our neighbourhood and our suburb. Our local school, local sports clubs and local small shopping centre have provided us with a community that we really feel a part of.
My children walk more than they would if I drove. They walk to sport and music lessons and school. Sometimes with me, often without. They have been able to learn independence. And road sense. And an awareness of nature. And again, a sense of community.They have never had to miss out on a social opportunity due to my lack of a drivers license. Their friends’ parents are always willing to offer a lift to parties and days out, and I return the favour by being available for last-minute before and after-school care when they need it.
People often dwell on the worst case scenarios of not driving. I have a plan of course. My husband is rarely more than a phone call away. I have good friends and neighbours who would help me out if an occasion should arise. Taxis are available in emergencies. Ambulances in real emergencies.
I’m not a rabid anti-car warrior. Top Gear is one of my favourite shows. I salivate over the Mercedes SLK in the picture above. I love watching the Grand Prix. I admit that often things would be easier if I had a license. But things aren’t as hard as you might think when you can’t drive.
Why don’t you try it one week? Look at all the things you do in your car, and work out which could still be accomplished without it. Put the kids (even the little ones) on the school bus or make them walk to school. Budget for only one big supermarket trip in a week. Use only one car, if you usually use two. Not everything will be feasible, because obviously not everybody has set their life up the way I have. But we can all slow down a little sometimes, because in the words of the great philosopher Ferris Bueller: “Life moves pretty fast. You don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
I didn’t drive for many years. I was a year younger than everyone I knew at school so they all had licenses in year 11 and by the time my birthday came around in year 12 it didn’t seem so important. Then I moved to Sydney, lived in the inner city and it didn’t seem important.
I went out and got a license at 25 because I felt I should. It was getting harder to get around, my boyfriend at the time thought I should… so I did. Then I didn’t drive. Because I learned in Sydney and the experience was horrible.
Fast-forward eight years. I was pregnant with my first son and just decided that, dammit, if everyone else could do it, so could I. I went through several sweating months of lessons again, practised with a very patient friend and before I knew it I was out there. My goal was to get to a place where I was comfortable driving, and I’m there now. I even drive from Fibrotown to Sydney and back without too much sweat.
But that doesn’t mean I love it and that doesn’t mean I need it. I still walk a lot. It makes no sense to me to drive two blocks. My boys walk a lot. It’s good for me and good for them.
But I’m happy to have a car when I need one.
Thanks for sharing your story. I never question a person’s decision to drive or not. There’s no rule that says you have to.
That’s pretty much how my story started, except replace ‘year younger; with ‘went overseas for a year’. I never got back in step.
I know I’m lucky to live where I do, and have the facilities nearby. (5 minutes bus to the biggest hospital for example). It really wouldn’t be feasible for many others, but we do rely on our cars too much sometimes.
Ah, Meredith. I know that question “You don’t drive????” very well. I had 36 years of it (well, actually more like 18 years of it) before I finally caved in and got my license. It was the birth of #3 that pushed me into it – I had been managing just fine on foot and on public transport, thank you very much, but the idea of doing it with three kids under 5 was more than I could bear.
My reasons for not driving were a bit different – there was quite a bit of fear (a bad car accident as a child) and the secret suspicion that driving was something that other people could do, but not me.
Six months of driving lessons, a brown-undies occasion driving test and 2 years 10 months of driving later, I am now almost off my P plates. I miss that slow pace of life that not driving afforded me and I try to walk with the kids to school, come rain or shine… but you do get lazier in a car, and busier…
Thanks for sharing your story!
I have that ’secret suspicion’ too.
Full disclosure:
I have had my Ls twice, but have only been behind the week maybe half-dozen times. Nearly rolling a short-wheel-base Suzuki into a dam was my glorious brown-undies moment. (That I will never live down.)
It is probably as much stubborness and lack of will-power now. (Now that’s contradictory!)
Well, having had one car due to mechanical issues lately I can safely say my life has been more stressful. Getting 2 kids to school ( not in public transport range) and 2 parents to differing workplaces at different times has been very hard work. ditto with sporting fixtures fir the kids. Justsayin
I know, I know. Which is why I make the comment that I have ’set my life up’ to support non-driving. I’m lucky I have been able to do this. Most people need to drive. My point is that I don’t, so I don’t get why people always act so horrified by my choice.
[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Meredith Flynn and Meredith Flynn, miss cackle. miss cackle said: @thinkthinkers As another non-driver (one with medical reasons for being so) I dig this. Esp. the Ferris quote http://tinyurl.com/2ffcdxn [...]
You don’t drive!!!
Sorry, I just had to do that. You can make of it what you will.
Neither of my kids drive despite being old enough, they either walk or use public transport. I’ve given up trying to get them to consider getting a licence.
It’s actually much better for the environment if fewer people drive and healthier for the body if they walk.
To be honest, the environment excuse is one I trot out on the odd occasion, if I think the audience will be receptive. (Generally they are the ones who aren’t impressed by my bosom…)