A Memory Bigger Than A License Plate

When I look at this picture, it's more than a license plate laid out on a blanket. This picture was taken when I sold my first car, (my first "big girl" purchase). It was more than "just a car"; it became my freedom. Letting go of something that was such huge part of your life can be really hard, and for me, it was my 2015 Kia Soul. I worked two jobs and saved every penny to buy it, in 2020.

(Fun fact: I always name my cars old lady names).

My first car was a beater. A 2003 Volkswagen Jetta that my father bought me as a graduation present my senior year of high school ($3,700). Her name was Gertrude. I don't remember how I came up with that name, but it stuck. Unfortunately, I didn't get to drive her all that much because I had a "cinderella license" at the time. Eventually, my living situation had changed, and I moved to North Carolina. After coming home the following year, I ran her into the ground (two accidents & three different colors later over the span of two years), it was time to move on from Gertrude. I went carless for three years.

So, when I finally had the money to put something down on a new car, I couldn't wait. $1,200 down payment and within 24 hours, my life changed. I got my dream car and named her Helga. Before I got her, I journaled all the time about the car I wanted and my intentions for using it. I told myself that this car was going to open doors for me and it would be my safe place and I'll travel in it. Though, I never got to cross off my bucket list using that car, it's still a representation of that freedom.

I learned how to love myself in that car, many times spent crying and feeling alone. I spent many days in solitude, sitting in that car at my favorite thinking spot. (A lake near my parent's house). I would contemplate life, purpose, my goals and aspirations. I've slept in that car in parking lots when I had nowhere to go and when home didn't feel like home anymore. The blanket in the picture was always on my backseat to protect the fabric. I loved the neon colors in an all-black, tinted car. I thought it looked cool and added some personality. (Plus, it was also used for sleeping.)

I found so much comfort in that car. It became a safe place for me, like I intended, and I didn't want to let it go. Now that I've started a family, I needed to make the decision that was best for my son. Getting rid of that car was a hard reality to face, but I knew it was necessary because we needed something bigger and safer for our family.

Through the motherhood journey, everything changed. Not only am I saying goodbye to that car (Helga), but I'm also saying goodbye to a part of me. I'm saying goodbye to a version of myself that will continue to live on in memory of all the potential dreams that the Kia was going to help me achieve.

(All the places I wanted to go, doing van life, and taking that solo cross-country trip I've always wanted to take.)

I'm saying goodbye to all of it. This picture symbolizes the journey of letting go and closing that chapter of my life. It's also a symbol for what's to come and moving gracefully through the change. This picture is a reminder that even though I have a family now, that the adventurer inside of me will always live on and she'll never go away. It's a moment of nostalgia frozen in time, a moment that I will be forever grateful for. This picture is more than just a memory of a license plate, it's how I've grown into who I am, and it will always be apart of me.

-Em