I wanted to be the passenger for once

Dear Delyara, I wanted someone else to know the route, remember the bag, think about dinner, notice the milk, answer the message, keep the timing in their head, and carry that invisible mental map families seem to expect from women without ever fully describing. I am so tired of being the internal navigation system. This evening I drove home from school pickup with both children talking at once and one asking what was for dinner and the other reminding me about tomorrow, and I had this sudden childish fantasy of just sitting in the back seat while someone else dealt with the whole thing. It felt impossible. It also felt very honest.