So I drove seven miles past my usual exit. Then seven more. I rolled down the windows, even though it was cold. I played the album I loved before I started caring what other people thought.
Because “home” isn’t a place you arrive at once. It’s a place you return to over and over again. Until the road between who you are and who you want to be finally feels like yours. When was the last time you took the long way back to yourself? driveyou7home
That’s where driveyou7home begins. Not with a destination. But with the decision to turn the wheel toward something real. For months — maybe years — I’d been running. Not from anything specific. Just from the feeling of being nowhere . I’d fill my days with noise: notifications, commitments, small talk. Anything to avoid sitting still long enough to hear what my own heart was trying to say. So I drove seven miles past my usual exit
But one Thursday evening, after a conversation that felt more like a collision, I got in my car. No GPS. No plan. Just a half-tank of gas and a strange pull toward the highway. I played the album I loved before I