Seeing a blue Jeep zoom by me on the freeway the other day reminded me that I used to want to own one. Not that I'm into cars, but somehow, I can picture myself in a Jeep, open to the elements, hair flying in the wind. But here I am, in my minivan, which will soon be full with the arrival of the new baby. Who knows when I'll ever drive a Jeep? or will I really care at that point?
When we were expecting our third child, I started doing research on bigger cars. And I didn't start with the minivans. SUVs were popular at the time, and despite the jokes that most SUVs have never gone off-road, I just couldn't picture myself in a minivan. Living in the Tri-valley, I saw so many Asian moms in minivans, and I didn't want to become 'one of them'. Which only shows that I still cared too much about how others viewed me at a glance (and that I also was too quick to judge sometimes).
I finally gave myself a good lecture and did research on some minivans, which were definitely the better fit for our family. My husband and I went out and purchased a used Sienna, and I became a 'suburban mom in a minivan'. For months after, I played around with the idea of dying my hair purple or pink, something bright. I needed to stand out in the sea of minivans on Interstate 580, to stand alone among the 'soccer moms'.
But I never did dye my hair. Why? Because I was able to accept the truth that my identity doesn't come from a hunk of metal. Yes, I could put stickers on my window or a fun license plate holder on it, and feel less like part of the mass, but really, I didn't need that either. I am me, with or without a van, or a Jeep.
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