“More than a Left Turn”

My biggest fear flashing before my eyes. I had just left tumbling practice in Marietta and was on my way home to Roswell. It was a great evening; my parents gave me the privilege of driving my own car and trusting me to drive my younger sister. I remember feeling free, proud, and excited. Only six days had passed since I had gotten my driver’s license, and life felt full of new possibilities. Driving myself felt like a rite of passage, and everything seemed to be going right until it wasn’t.

I was just trying to get home.  I was making a left turn two minutes from my house and a distracted driver changed everything for me. In a matter of seconds, my life took a direction I never saw coming. That turn didn’t lead me home, it led me straight into a traumatic event that left me hurt, shaken, and unsure of who I was.  Before this turn I had come a long way from not knowing how to drive to having my license. Suddenly, everything felt out of my control. What once was familiar became ever so unrecognizable

The crash itself happened in a heartbeat. But the aftermath of recovering, rebuilding, and understanding what had happened was slow and difficult. I woke up to a world that didn’t feel the same. My body was injured and hurt, but so was my mind and spirit. I spent countless hours on end in physical and emotional therapy, trying to make sense of my thoughts and feelings, wondering if I would ever feel like myself again. The physical bruises faded over time, but the fear and anxiety lingered much longer than I could have ever imagined.

Going back to square one was frightening. I had to relearn basic driving skills (including taking driving lessons again), how to move without tension, how to get into the driver and passenger seats without fear, and how to live without letting the crash define me. Every step was a challenge, but over time, I made progress. It didn’t happen all at once, but slowly, I started noticing change not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too.

Somewhere along the way, something shifted. I became more patient. I started paying closer attention to my body, to my emotional state, and to the subtle signals I used to ignore. I learned to give myself space to grow and permission to feel. And as I focused on healing, I became more present, not just for others, but for myself.

Eventually, I realized that recovery isn’t about returning to who you were before something happened. It’s about becoming someone new, someone stronger, more aware, and more resilient. I learned how to rebuild, how to endure, and most importantly, how to extend grace to myself during the process.

Teen driver safety is one of the most important public issues we face today because it impacts not only the lives of young drivers, but also everyone who shares the road. Car accidents are one of the leading causes of death for teens, and many of these accidents are preventable. This is why drivers’ education plays such a vital role. It gives us the tools and awareness we need to develop safe driving habits early, before dangerous mistakes are made.

One of the biggest challenges teen drivers face today is distraction. It’s so easy to think “I’ll just check one message,” but that one second can change everything. Peer pressure is also very important, sometimes friends in the car can encourage risky and suspect behavior or become a distraction themselves. And for many teens, the biggest challenge is lack of experience. We’re still learning how to handle different weather conditions, heavy traffic, or unexpected obstacles. To promote safer driving among young people, we need a community-wide effort. Schools can offer peer-led workshops that make safety relatable, not just another boring lecture. 

Being a teen driver is exciting, but with that freedom comes serious responsibility. I believe that through education, personal accountability, and support from our schools and communities, we can save lives and create a new culture of safe teen drivers—one decision at a time. Today, when I say I made it home, I don’t just mean a physical location. I mean I found a version of myself that is whole again, one that understands pain, but also knows growth. I made it back to a place of strength, peace, and purpose. And that, to me, is home.  Now, with that strength, I’m ready to leave home, not to escape it, but to carry everything I’ve learned into college and the world ahead, where a new chapter is just the beginning.