A few weeks ago, I did something I never thought I’d do.
I traded in my Audi. My “I’ve got my life together” car.
The one that made me feel just a little cooler than I probably deserved. In its place? A Volkswagen. A proper family car. Two kids Two rescue dogs. Enough trunk space to smuggle half of IKEA home.
It wasn’t exactly the upgrade I had imagined. But somewhere between practicality and dog hair… I think I accidentally grew up. There was just one tiny problem. For almost twenty years, I’d only driven automatic cars.
This one? Manual. Of course.
Because apparently adulthood also comes with a clutch pedal.
As we packed the car for Italy, I had a brief moment of panic.
“What if I’ve completely forgotten how to drive this thing?”
You know the feeling. Your brain suddenly convinces you that a skill you’ve had for years has mysteriously disappeared overnight. Especially when you know there are mountain roads waiting for you. And hill starts. Lots of hill starts.
The funny thing is…
The moment I pulled away, it all came back. Like I’d driven a manual yesterday. Muscle memory is a wonderful thing. And maybe confidence is too.
A few years ago, I would’ve worried about stalling. I’d have imagined everyone behind me judging me. I’d probably have apologized to strangers who hadn’t even noticed.
Now?
Worst case… I stall. I start the car again. Life goes on.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped believing that every little mistake was a disaster. And honestly… I think carnivore has played a bigger role in that than people might expect.
People often ask me about weight loss. Or inflammation. Or energy. Those things are great. But nobody really talks about what happens inside your head.
The constant overthinking. The anxious little voice that always wants to prepare for everything that could possibly go wrong.
For me…
That voice has become incredibly quiet for years now. Not because life became easier. But because my mind did. I don’t know whether it’s stable blood sugar, balanced hormones, less inflammation, or a combination of all three.
I only know this:
There isn’t much room left for fear anymore. Just solutions. So there I was. Driving a manual Volkswagen through the Italian mountains. Two kids in the back. Two dogs happily snoring behind us.
And me… Smiling. Not because I’d mastered the clutch. But because I realized I wasn’t the same person who would’ve been scared to try.
Funny how a family car can teach you more about yourself than a luxury car ever did. Sometimes confidence doesn’t arrive in a shiny Audi. Sometimes it shows up wearing dog hair…driving a Volkswagen.
And honestly? I wouldn’t trade that feeling for any automatic in the world.
The Woman Behind the Jersey 