A New Car and a Lesson in Human Nature

 I recently shared a post saying goodbye to my 2021 Mustang Mach-E and hello to my new 2026 Tesla.

That was it.

I wasn’t making a political statement. I wasn’t trying to persuade anyone. I wasn’t endorsing a billionaire, an administration, an ideology, or a movement. I was updating my friends and family on a life event, much like people post pictures of vacations, grandchildren, new puppies, kitchen remodels, and graduations.

Instead, I evoked verbal violence.

What fascinated me wasn’t that people disagreed with my choice. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. What fascinated me was how many complete strangers felt compelled to share those opinions with such certainty and intensity.

For some context, my husband works in the energy industry. His work involves electric vehicle charging infrastructure, pipelines, power systems, and the complicated reality of moving energy around the country. Long before Tesla entered our garage, we bought a Mustang Mach-E in 2021.

To be honest, I never thought I would own an electric car.

Then I drove one.

I took road trips. I learned how charging worked. I drove the Tail of the Dragon. I made trips to Charlotte and Greenville. I even navigated longer drives all the way to Missouri. There was a learning curve, but it was also fun. The car was fast, handled corners beautifully, and there was something incredibly convenient about plugging in at home and waking up every morning with a full “tank.”

Did that make me anti-gas car?

No.

Did it make me pro-electric car?

Not really.

It made me pro-whatever-works-for-me.

When my husband suggested replacing my car, we talked about it the same way most couples discuss major purchases. We considered the options. We discussed the pros and cons. We looked at practicality, cost, technology, and what would fit our lifestyle.

Eventually, we landed on a Tesla.

Not the most expensive one. Not the cheapest one. Just the one that made sense for us.

Apparently, however, that decision meant strangers on the internet suddenly knew everything about me.

My politics. (virtually nonexistent)

My values.(pretty good)

My intelligence. (Actually better than I thought.)

My morals. (Sometimes need work.)

My character.(I've build it well but always learning.)

It’s amazing what people can infer from a photograph of a car.

What really surprised me wasn’t the criticism itself. It was the assumption that a consumer purchase must automatically be a declaration of allegiance.

Somewhere along the way, we stopped allowing people to simply like things.

A car isn’t always a political statement.

A cup of coffee isn’t always a political statement.

A pair of shoes isn’t always a political statement.

Sometimes a car is just a car.

Sometimes a woman in her fifties is simply excited about a new vehicle and wants to show her mom, her in-laws, and a few friends.

That’s it.

No manifesto.

No campaign speech.

No hidden agenda.

Just a life update.

The good news is that I wasn’t upset by the comments. If anything, I found them entertaining. The reactions said far more about the people posting them than they did about me.

But I do find myself asking one question:

What are we doing?

Why are we spending our time typing hatred into the comment section of a complete stranger who was simply sharing a happy moment?

We’ve become so busy evaluating, judging, and sorting people into teams that we’ve forgotten how to simply be happy for someone else’s happiness.

Life is hard enough.

We’re all carrying things nobody else can see.

Maybe we could allow each other a little more grace.

And maybe—just maybe—we can let a middle-aged woman enjoy her new car and leave it at that.

My challenge to you:

The next time you feel the urge to reply to a post you hate, try moving on.

Try closing the app for a while. Go find a post from a friend and leave an encouraging comment. Congratulate someone. Celebrate someone’s success. Make somebody’s day a little brighter.

I have a feeling you’ll feel better afterward.

Negativity is sticky. It clings to us longer than we realize. It follows us from one post to the next, from one conversation to another.

Maybe we don’t need more outrage.

Maybe we just need a little more kindness.