How Tesla Changed My Relationship with Driving

I failed my driver's test three times when I was younger.

I've totaled three cars.

I've commuted every week for years, yet driving has always been one of the hardest parts of my life.

I'm neurodivergent. I struggle with sustained attention and experience sensory processing differences that can make judging depth and distance more difficult. Over the years there were one too many close calls, one too many parking lot fender benders, one too many times clipping a pole I genuinely thought I had cleared.

Every time I got behind the wheel, I wanted to do better. But it always felt like another mistake was just waiting around the corner.

Meanwhile, my life was moving in the right direction. My health improved. I earned my graduate degree. I entered a career I love as a therapist. I continued to teach and love group fitness. I was healing in almost every area of my life, but driving was the one thing that never seemed to get better.

Then, on February 17, everything came to a head again. I was involved in another accident that totaled my car.

Thankfully, nobody was hurt. There were no medical bills. No legal consequences. In the grand scheme of things, I was incredibly fortunate.

But emotionally?

I was devastated. After four years without an accident, I had done it again.

I remember thinking, Why can't I just get this right?

Everyone else seemed to drive without much effort. Why did something that felt so automatic to everyone else require so much mental energy from me? I felt embarrassed and ashamed, like I had failed at something every adult is just supposed to know how to do.

A couple weeks later, while I was still recovering from the accident, my parents called me.

"Would you consider getting a Tesla?"

My uncle had bought one a few months earlier and had been showing them its Full Self-Driving capabilities. After hearing about my accident, he told my mom, "Drake should really look into one."

I laughed.

A car that drives itself? There's no way. So I scheduled a test drive.

Within minutes, I realized this wasn't science fiction anymore.

Today I've driven more than 10,000 miles with Full Self-Driving Supervised.

It hasn't just changed how I drive. It has changed how I think about myself.

The system requires you to stay attentive. It watches for driver engagement and discourages distractions like using your phone. It continuously monitors traffic in every direction, never gets sleepy, never gets impatient, and doesn't decide to speed through a yellow light because you're running late.

Most importantly, it compensates for many of the areas where I know I struggle.

Tesla has reported that vehicles operating with its supervised driving technology are involved in fewer crashes per mile than the U.S. average, though these comparisons have important limitations and Full Self-Driving still requires an attentive driver ready to take over at any moment. Regardless of the statistics, my own experience has been transformative.

Instead of white-knuckling my commute across the Metroplex, I arrive calmer. Instead of constantly anticipating the next mistake, I spend that time listening to podcasts, discovering new music, or simply thinking.

The technology hasn't made me stop paying attention. It's made paying attention easier.

More than anything, though, it's changed the story I tell myself.

For years, the narrative in my head was:

“I'm a bad driver."

And if you're a bad driver, it's easy to start believing you're somehow a bad person.

Now the story is different.

I have legitimate challenges with driving and now I have a tool that helps me manage those challenges.

There's an important difference between those two statements.

One is shame. The other is adaptation.

We readily accept glasses for poor eyesight, hearing aids for hearing loss, and wheelchairs for mobility impairments. Driver-assistance technology feels similar to me. It's not about admitting defeat. It's about using available tools to increase independence and safety.

If you're neurodivergent, an older adult, someone with driving anxiety, or someone who simply dreads getting behind the wheel every day, I genuinely think it's worth trying.

Full Self-Driving is currently available as a monthly subscription for around $99, meaning you don't necessarily have to purchase it outright. And while many people still think Teslas are luxury cars, several models have become far more affordable than their reputation suggests. Between charging instead of buying gas, I've already saved over a thousand dollars in fuel alone.

But if you ask me, the biggest benefit isn't the money.

It's the peace of mind. For the first time in my adult life, I don't climb into my car wondering if today's going to be the day I make another mistake.

I just drive. Or maybe more accurately I sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.