Narrative Argument Argumentative Essay Samples

While there are many events in my life that I believe have defined me, and made me feel more adult, one of the more significant ones was getting my driver’s license. I was more excited for this event than others were. It felt differently than other events that are considered classically adult, as well. Most importantly, however, is that the process of getting my license, and becoming and independent driver taught me more about being an adult than most of the “adult” events I have experienced.
Prior to getting my license, I was aware it was a rite of passage. I understood this was a sign that I was growing up, which was one of the reasons it excited me. I was also very excited about the prospect of driving by myself, or with my friends. Like most teenagers, I had grown tired of being chaperoned by my parents, or chauffeured everywhere. I wanted to gain independence and to me, that it was a driver’s license meant. It was the first step of many to becoming an independent adult. My friends felt similarly, as we all were excited to drive on our own, get out own vehicles, and be away from our parents more often. It was the typical adolescent yearning, wherein we wanted to be treated like adults, but did not fully understand the extent of the responsibilities we were asking for.
I remember getting my license very clearly. It was so elating to feel free like that. I was exhilarated; it felt very similar to an adrenaline rush. I remember climbing behind the wheel of my first car for the first time without an adult in the vehicle with me. It was strange for a moment. I had to remind myself I was allowed to do this; I had a license and legally was allowed to drive alone. Once I had done that, it was quite simple to turn my stereo up at full volume and drive away without a second thought. If I concentrate hard enough I can still feel the smooth steering wheel under my hand, and the loud music in my ear as began my maiden voyage alone.
My exhilaration was short-lived, however. I was granted two weeks of blissful, thoughtless, wonderful freedom. My stomach filled with butterflies ever time my key entered the ignition. I took turns too quickly, disobeyed speed limits, and shuttled my friends around town to nowhere, just for an excuse to drive. After that, my parents gently reminded me of our previous agreement that had completely slipped my mind: I had a license, I was growing up, and now I had to take care of my responsibilities. They had bought my car, and I would need to get a job to pay for gas, chip in for insurance, and take care of any issues that arose with the vehicle. Issues arose often, as the car was nowhere near in good condition. Before getting my license, the rite of passage only meant the thrilling sense of adult freedom; afterward, I was shackled with the true sense of adult responsibility as three school nights a week and two weekends a month I worked at our local grocery store in order to maintain what little freedom I was allowed when not paying for it. I was surprised and disheartened by these new responsibilities, to say the least. I remember very clearly thinking what is the point in having freedom if you have to pay for it? That is not truly freedom. Nonetheless, I understood my parents’ wishes, and was not so self-consumed as to think they should pay for all of my necessities if I was to earn the title, “adult.”
In sum, my first experience with adulthood was strange and surprising. Prior to getting my license, I had a misconceived notion that adulthood would be easy. It would only be about my independence, freedom, and right to a good time. Quickly I was reminded I now had responsibilities to pay for, and was to use my new freedom to pay for those responsibilities. Naturally, this sucked much of the fun out of what I had previously decided was to be the greatest experience of my life, but it taught me a great deal about obligation, and taking charge of your life. Fortunately, even with all of my responsibilities now, I always have the smooth feel of the steering wheel beneath my fingers and the blaring sound of a good song in my ear as I drive down the road, even if it is to work.