About That Car Rental

This was my first road trip with Mal. 

I travel solo regularly, but this was the first time I was behind the wheel, responsible for both of us. Renting a car might not sound like a big deal, but  with OCD, it meant intrusive thoughts rehearsing every worst-case scenario—Mal flying into the windshield, me falling asleep at the wheel, the whole thing unraveling. 

And yet, I did it.

There were hiccups—credit card issues, paperwork confusion, me panicking quietly in a rental garage while trying to hold it all together. I drove out with a pulse in my throat and every muscle on high alert. 

But what I remember most isn’t the fear. It’s the man in the garage who told me, gently, to drop the dog off first before cleaning the car. It's the mechanics who gave me a thumbs up when I returned it. It’s the strangers who talked to me about their labs and called Mal a shadow, the way dogs are when they love you completely. 

I’ve spent a lot of years assuming I’d be met with judgment, conflict, or worse. Especially from people who look like me. But this trip reminded me how often I’m wrong. And how much softer the world becomes when I stop bracing for harm. 

I’m still learning to let go. A little more each time.