Not too long ago, a friend of mine was busting my chops about not having my license. You read that right: I don’t have my driver’s license. Now, please, pick your jaw up off the table; it’s not like I haven’t seen that expression before.

My 18th birthday was a little over two weeks ago, and in the two years I’ve had the chance to get my license, I haven’t even tried.

Why? Because, as of now, I’m alright: I’ve got generous friends, generous parents, and excessively generous grandparents.

Now, don’t get the wrong impression. I’m not an inconsiderate mooch. I appreciate those who help me out on a day-to-day basis; I appreciate what they do for me more than they could imagine.

As my friend and I continued discussing the lack of plastic in my wallet, she went on to say that “finally being able to get out of the house without your parents taking you everywhere is essential to learning responsibility.”

Although having a small card with all your personal information on it may garnish responsibility in the sense that you are guarding your passengers’ lives, it is not essential in becoming a steadfast citizen.

Just in my high school career, responsibility has come at me from all angles: I’ve been appointed as the Co-Editor-in-Chief of the newspaper you’re currently reading – a job in and of itself. I’ve had to watch over my 3-year-old brother countless times, constantly caring for him. And although I’ve only been working there for three months, I’m currently employed at Planet Fun. This, in a short amount of time, has quickly taught me the value of a dollar.

In each of these roles, I’ve had to account for myself and those around me – much like being behind the wheel of a car.

Maybe, however, my friend is right. Maybe getting your license helps you grow up. Maybe it helps you learn a lesson. Maybe it helps you increase your level of responsibility.

But it’s not essential.

There are more important moments in life that give you a sense of responsibility, and I plan on accomplishing each and every one, including getting my license.

But, for now, the road less traveled is the one I prefer.