Yes! Finally! It’s only taken six years but I’ve finally passed my driving test.
Let me explain why it’s taken that long.
I first learned how to drive when I turned seventeen, I completed nearly thirty hours of driving without going around a single roundabout. I had barely touched the manoeuvres and I had absolutely no confidence on the road, so instead of doing my test I cancelled my lessons and concentrated on my college work.
University came and went and I finally found a full-time job that would take me. With a little bit of disposable income, I decided to take up my lessons again.
I didn’t get on with the first instructor. It felt like a sales pitch as soon as I sat in the car: “we don’t learn how to drive, we learn how to be safe”. Needless to say, that wasn’t why I’d taken up my lessons again and I didn’t call him to book another one the following week.
My second instructor was highly rated on Google and was available in the evenings so I gave him a call and booked some lessons. We got on well and I had a further ten, maybe twenty, hours of driving before the stress of ten hour days took its toll on my mental health.
He gave up on me. He didn’t show up for our last lesson, the lesson before my test.
Finally, during the first week of December, I discovered an intensive course that covered three days with the test included at the end.
The instructor was much more laid back than the rest which in turn made me feel happier and more confident in my drive. He didn’t shout at me like others had when I’d mucked up a turn in the road or a bay park but instead coached me through until the morning of my test.
Fuuuu- my test day came quicker than anticipated and I was soon sat next to the bald, burly examiner.
I passed with three minors and I’d gained a new friend by the end of the test.
It goes to show that you can do something if you put your mind to it, even if other people have broken your spirit.
So everyone please welcome my new car, Avril, to the family!