“Why don’t you drive? You should just get a car. It makes life so much easier.”

I’ve heard these sentences more times than I can count. It’s usually delivered with wide-eyed disbelief, as if I’ve somehow never considered that cars are convenient. In my mid-20s, not driving is often treated like a red flag – immature at best, irresponsible at worst. For many, it’s seen as a marker of adulthood or independence, a practical milestone to look forward to. And I get it. It was for me too.

Right before I moved from Perth to Melbourne, I took my driving test for the first (and only) time. Back then, I didn’t know I was about to relocate interstate. With my future thought to be in Perth, I knew I needed to get my licence if I wanted to do, well, almost anything. Perth’s public transport system is notoriously limited, and at the time, driving felt like the only option.

"In my mid-20s, not driving is often treated like a red flag – immature at best, irresponsible at worst."

I remember the test itself being nothing short of horrifying. Already an anxious person, I found myself trying to follow instructions while the driving instructor casually asked me about my Year 12 ball, what I planned to study, and whether the pressure of my final year was getting to me. In the end, I failed because I stopped the car slightly too far from the curb. I haven’t taken another test since.

After I moved to Melbourne, the urgency to drive quietly faded. Public transport here was far more accessible. Even now, seven years later, I still find myself enchanted by the coloured maps showing elaborate tram, train and bus routes – a stark contrast to what I’d known in Perth, where there’s still nothing comparable.

Of course, Melbourne comes with its own complications. The traffic is worse, and needing to account for trams, hook turns, and (way more) cyclists made me realise I didn’t actually want to drive here either. Although public transport is often unreliable and late, I still find it far more manageable. During peak hours, I’d rather be on a tram, where there’s at least some pressure on the service to run on time, instead of being stuck behind the wheel in gridlock.

"Between the rising cost of fuel, parking fines, maintenance, insurance and registration, owning a car just seems like a constant expense I can’t easily justify. I regularly hear friends complain about how expensive it is to run a car, often moments after telling me I should get one."

So, while moving through the world without a licence isn’t something I chose out of social defiance, it does come down to a mix of caution, cost and circumstance.

You could argue, “Okay, you don’t want to drive, but isn’t it handy to have a licence?” And I’d agree, to some extent. It would be handy. But for the most part, I can chalk up my non-driving mindset to anxiety – the kind that insists if something goes wrong, it will be entirely my fault. The thought of being responsible for a vehicle and everyone’s safety in it feels overwhelming. I’ve not only heard but witnessed the devastation of car accidents: lives lost in freak incidents, lifelong injuries caused by a moment’s distraction, the insurmountable grief and regret that follow – even if or when it wasn’t technically your fault.

Which makes it kind of pointless for me to get one. I’d have to go through multiple paid lessons, then sit a stressful (and expensive) driving test, with no guarantee of passing the first time. And let’s be honest, I – and probably many others – wouldn’t want an anxious driver behind the wheel in an emergency anyway. So what’s the point?

"In a way, relying on public transport forces me to slow down. Trams and trains, while imperfect, give me time to read, text or call people back, zone out or find inspiration."

There’s also the financial burden. Between the rising cost of fuel, parking fines, maintenance, insurance and registration, owning a car just seems like a constant expense I can’t easily justify. I regularly hear friends complain about how expensive it is to run a car, often moments after telling me I should get one.

Additionally, factors like having dependents or living in newly developing or regional areas with limited public transport access don’t apply to me or my lifestyle (at least at the moment). So the most convenient option remains public transport, where it’s still manageable to carry a bag or two of groceries, or head out for drinks.

In a way, relying on public transport forces me to slow down. Trams and trains, while imperfect, give me time to read, text or call people back, zone out or find inspiration. I can credit eavesdropping on public transport as the starting point for many of my articles and stories.

"There’s an avenue of connection there – waiting together in the cold for a train to arrive, sparking up conversation over whether the next tram is coming, helping an older woman with her bags as she gets off the bus."

Plus, some of the most interesting people I’ve met have been at bus and tram stops. There’s an avenue of connection there – waiting together in the cold for a train to arrive, sparking up conversation over whether the next tram is coming, helping an older woman with her bags as she gets off the bus. Little moments that keep me tied to the people around me and grounded in reality.

And so, while for many people driving might be the most convenient, cost-efficient and practical option, it isn’t for me and mine. Driving instructors and the test itself aren’t going anywhere any time soon, and if things change – if it’s no longer viable for me to use public transport – I’ll do what I’ve got to.

For now, you can rest knowing I didn’t just forget to get my licence. I continue to (at least for the moment) choose not to.

Feature images from Clueless (1995).