My Excitement Was Bigger Than My Fear

When I got my driver’s license, my father had already passed away, leaving behind a car that had been sitting untouched in the parking lot for a year. Because it had been gathering dust for so long, it wasn't running properly and needed a long list of repairs before it could hit the road again.

That car became my very first set of wheels. And it wasn’t just any car, it was a GMC Yukon XL.

For those who don't know, the Yukon XL is essentially the Suburban version. It seats seven people comfortably and still has a massive amount of boot space in the back. Simply put, I learned how to drive in what felt like a mini-bus.

To make the picture even funnier: I am 5'5".

Every single time I parked and hopped down from the driver’s seat, I could feel the stares. People would look at me either silently judging or completely in awe of how this tiny ant had just piloted an absolute elephant down the road. Even my own brother looked at me one day and told me straight up that the car didn’t suit my face.

In the early days, once we finally got the engine running, I had to take it regularly to the Shuwaikh Industrial Area for repairs. My first ever drive in this car was from Hawally to Shuwaikh. Anyone who has driven through the garage streets of Shuwaikh knows how chaotic and narrow they are. Often, only one car can barely squeeze through at a time. And there I was, a relatively new driver, trying to navigate this giant vehicle through those tiny streets. Every turn required extra attention. Every narrow passage felt like a challenge. And reversing? That was a completely different nightmare.

You see, the car didn't have a reverse camera. No parking sensors. None of the technology that makes driving so convenient today. It was just me, the steering wheel, and the mirrors.

Every time I had to reverse, I would look over my shoulder, check the side mirrors, check the rear-view mirror, and slowly move backwards, constantly worrying that I might hit something. I remember stopping the car because I was absolutely convinced that I was just inches away from a wall.

Then I would get out to check. And guess what? The wall would still be far away!

The Payoff of Starting on "Hard Mode"

Looking back, I am so grateful that I learned to drive in something so challenging. Because I started with a heavy, oversized vehicle, every other car I have driven since feels effortless.

When you add modern perks like 360-degree cameras and parking sensors to a normal-sized car, driving feels like a breeze.

A lot of people let the fear of size hold them back. For instance, one of my cousins still refuses to drive large vehicles; he sticks strictly to smaller sedans and never once touched my father’s Yukon out of fear that he wouldn't be able to handle it.

I went the opposite route, and not because I was fearless, but because my excitement was bigger than my fear. I loved the idea of driving, and I was honored to drive my father's car. I didn't care how long it was or how tough the turns would be; I just wanted to be behind the wheel. Go for long drives and live my little dream.

The Bigger Lesson for Life

There's another thing I learned from this experience. When you are genuinely excited about doing something, the difficulties along the way don't bother you as much.

I didn't enjoy squeezing through those narrow streets in Shuwaikh. I certainly didn't enjoy getting out of the car every few minutes to check whether I was about to hit a wall.

But I enjoyed driving.

And because I enjoyed driving, I was willing to go through all those uncomfortable experiences.

The difficulties were still there. I just wasn't allowing them to stop me.

I think the same applies to almost everything we want to achieve in life.

If you are excited about building a business, learning a new skill, pursuing a career, or taking on a big responsibility, don't let the thought of how difficult it might be discourage you before you have even started.

Of course, you need to be sensible. You need to understand the risks and prepare yourself.

But don't mistake difficulty for impossibility.

Sometimes, the very thing you are afraid to attempt is the thing that will teach you the most.