I want to buy one myself.

The other day, I caught up with a car-loving friend from college for the first time in ages. He said:

“I read your blog! But I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the bit about working toward your goal of buying a Panamera when you already drive one. Your husband bought it for you, so why are you still aiming to buy one yourself? lol”

Fair point. What is up with me? (-_-)

I’ve always been stubbornly independent

I’ve always been a little contrarian—or maybe just stubborn—and wanted to do everything myself. Apparently, even as a baby, I insisted, “I’ll eat my own baby food!” Whenever my mother tried to feed me with a spoon, I’d spit it all out with a “bleh,” grab it with my hands, and eat it myself.

Even now, my mother says, “You’ve always wanted to do everything yourself, ever since you were little.”

I’d wanted to live on my own for as long as I can remember. When I started working, moved out, and realized I was covering all my living expenses with money I’d earned myself, I was thrilled. I’d always lived by the rule: “If I want something, I’ll buy it myself instead of having someone give it to me!”

Even after I got married, if I mentioned a watch I liked and my husband offered, “Want me to get it for your birthday?” I’d refuse with some bizarre declaration like:

“No! If I want a watch, I’ll earn the money and buy it myself! It only counts if I buy it myself!” Honestly, I know—it’s not exactly endearing.

So even though I’m already driving a Panamera, buying a Panamera GTS with my own money is still a goal of mine. It’s what I wanted to buy for myself in the first place.

Stubborn—or just too proud?

That’s the kind of person I am, and for a long time, I felt a little guilty about driving a Porsche thanks to my husband. It felt like I was taking credit for someone else’s success—or, as the Japanese saying goes, “wrestling in someone else’s loincloth.” I kept thinking, “I haven’t earned this myself…” That is, until quite recently.

When friends said, “I hear you drive a Porsche! That’s amazing—you must be rich!” I’d shoot back:

“No, my husband’s the one with money. I’m not rich. (-_-)” (What a nasty thing to say. It almost sounds like a humblebrag.)

My husband would say, “Why don’t you take the Panamera to Royu on your own and meet some other Porsche drivers?” But I’d always refuse: “It’s your Porsche, so people will think I’m acting like it’s mine. I’m not going. (-_-)” (As if anyone would care. Talk about being self-conscious…)

One day, I finally let myself be happy

That changed this year, after a comment from a senior colleague I really respect.

Somehow, we got talking about how “I’m able to live the way I do now thanks to my husband, so I need to make sure I build something for myself, too.” That’s when they said:

“But that’s a huge advantage. What you’re doing is pretty unusual, after all. Being in the minority can be a real strength and a source of value in the market. You should make the most of the situation you’re in!”

That’s what they told me.

A-advantage… (*_*)

For some reason, hearing it framed in business terms made it click (lol). I thought, “I see—that’s one way to look at it.” My circumstances were something to be grateful for, but they were also an advantage I could make use of.

If I could let go of my stubbornness and accept things as they are, maybe I could use this opportunity to open doors to new experiences—and reach the places I want to go faster.

Because life really is like Dragon Quest!

Even if your character is low-level and all you have equipped is a cloth tunic and a club, join a strong party and you can get better gear, take on powerful enemies, earn lots of experience points, and level up fast.

It finally sank in: so much depends on how you look at things and how you make use of what you have. If I appreciate the situation I’m in and let myself accept it, things can start moving faster.

Since then, I’ve found myself thinking, “All right, let’s take the Panamera out everywhere!” and “I’m going to write a lot more for the blog!”

I really am a complicated person. (*_*)

That said, my goal of buying a Panamera myself is still very much alive.

Even if it’s the same car, I’m sure driving one someone else bought for me feels completely different from driving one I paid for myself. The joy of taking the wheel, the sense of achievement, the thrill of driving—and that quiet feeling of satisfaction that comes over you now and then—must be worlds apart.

I have to experience that for myself!