Nobody Had to Say Yes

The day started with one simple responsibility. I needed to take Alina to get her blood work done. That was the plan. Get in the car. Handle the appointment. Then come back home. For years, that alone would have required checking rideshare prices first. 

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Then I would have to make sure I had enough money. I would have to struggle with getting both kids ready before the driver arrived and hoping nobody would cancel on us. This time, I grabbed my keys. I put my kids in our car and took my own damn self.

Getting there also reminded me how far I had already come. The first time I merged onto the interstate, I was gripping the steering wheel for dear life. I was going almost 55 miles an hour, but I still started shouting, “Hell yeah!” like I had just won some big money. My kids were laughing in the back seat because Mama was scared as hell. Plus, Mama was celebrating at the same time. That nervous small win mattered because it helped make days like this possible. I could take Alina to her appointment. I can choose to keep going afterward and turn a normal responsibility into a whole day with my littles.

After the blood work, I did not feel ready to go straight home. That feeling alone was new and refreshing. I did not have to check whether another ride would cost too much. Neither did I feel compelled to ask anybody if they had time to take us somewhere else. I opened the GPS and realized Barnes & Noble, Whole Foods, and QDOBA were all close by. I had spent so many years arranging my life around transportation. I never realized how close everything was around this area. The world had not been far away. I had not been free to move through it.

Alright, so we went into Barnes & Noble because we could. There were no long discussions and no big plans. I simply decided we were going inside. I watched my kids look around. I let myself enjoy being able to turn one appointment into an actual day out. I was not watching the clock for a driver. Plus, I was not wondering how we would get to the next place. The car was outside waiting on us because it was ours.

Then we went into Whole Foods. My kids had never experienced a grocery store like that before. Sha, they were shocked as hell. They looked around like we had walked into a whole different kind of world. Seeing their reactions made me notice it differently too. It was not only a grocery run. It was me introducing them to a place they had never seen. It was this way because for so long, our outings were limited by where we could walk, where the bus went, what a rideshare cost, or who was willing to take us.

I spent about $75 in Whole Foods. I put it on my Cash App card and called it a day. I did not stand there feeling like I needed permission or prepare an explanation for every item in the cart. I had the money. I made the choice. I paid for it. That might sound regular to somebody else, but regular freedom still feels like a big fucking deal when you spent years having to explain what you needed and why.

We ended the day at QDOBA with a lunch date for all three of us. I bought both kids’ quesadilla meals. We sat down together after a day none of us had planned. It was not a vacation or some expensive, IG photo-opt outing. It was blood work, buying books, groceries, and Mexican food. Still, sitting there with my two-piece special felt like proof that I could create a good memory without waiting on another person to make it possible.

Using the GPS did not make the day any less independent. I am still learning these roads. I would rather let that little voice tell me where to turn than end up on the wrong damn side of Baton Rouge. What mattered was that I was the one behind the wheel. I chose the stops. I followed the directions. I parked the car. I had got my children in and out safely and brought us home. Every turn was mine to make.

The freedom was in the unplanned part. Before I had a car, spontaneity belonged to people with transportation. I could not casually add another stop because every extra mile meant more money. It meant more waiting, and more planning. That day, I did not have to calculate whether enjoying ourselves was worth another rideshare fare. I only had to decide whether we wanted to go.

For almost four years, I had used rideshare with my kids to reach even the shortest distances. Now one appointment became a bookstore visit, a grocery-store first, and a lunch date because nobody had to say yes except me. I did not need a ride. I did not have to wait for approval. I did not have to prepare for a perfect plan. I had my keys, my Cash App card, my GPS, and my littles (two-piece special.) For once, that was enough.