A life lesson learnt from failing my first driving test
The real reason why I failed my restricted driving test did not really sink in until at least three to four years later.
My mother had made me plan a good six months in advanced for the test. She made me go out with my dad at 5am in the morning, every morning, to run through the possible routes the test could go.
In short, by the end of the 6 months, I knew every curve, swerve and corner except one.
My parents are what you can describe as overly conservative, plan ahead enthusiasts. My mother does not do well in situations that requires spontaneity, creative thinking and on-the-fly decision making. Everything had to be researched and thought through, right down to the minute details.
Growing up, I had become accustomed to their over protective ways. Little did they know that they stunted my preparation for the real world.
The one road my dad refused to take me down became the one road the driving instructor decided I should get tested on.
I panicked.
I’ve only went down the road once and got a major scolding from my father. The speed limit was 80 kph (50 mph) — the fastest I’ve ever been.
The driving test ended after 20 minutes. There were large strikes on the testing…
