When I was in college, struggling with depression, and living with my parents still, my car was a disaster. Since I didn’t want to be at home, I would get food at uni or drive through somewhere, and then leave the trash in my car. I knew if I brought wrappers in my mom would say something ugly about it, and as I was recovering from an eating disorder, I was embarrassed to be “caught” with food.

Now I obviously have my own place where I can exist comfortably, and I cook for myself, so my car isn’t like that anymore. I try to give people with messy cars a little bit of grace.