My father was a narcissist and I was his scapegoat. Basically he made himself look good by making me look bad.

One tool he wielded was automotive repair because he fancied himself as a mechanic, and would always demand I “help” him. In truth, it was an opportunity for him to beat me down and convince me I was a worthless and lazy human being.

So doing things to my own cars always filled me with panic and dread. Until recently.

It seems so simple, and from a general vantage point it is.

But I learned how to change my own oil a while back and this past weekend I took it upon myself to replace my own spark plugs and PCV valve because I was going to be goddamned if I was paying a dealer $500 to it.

The wave of joy, accomplishment, and overall healing when I pulled out my first plug, and soon test drove my car around the block was a moment of catharsis for me that was palpable

So, I guess one could say doing my own automotive maintenance. I don’t regret it like I thought I would