Dear Sir,

I have a confession to make. I nearly illegally parked in an accessible parking space. I know. Horrifying.

Just to clarify, I am referring to what we still commonly refer to as “handicapped” parking, but the more appropriate term these days is in fact “accessible”.

Anyone that knows me will know I am not the type of person that would ever be so thoughtless and disrespectful as to park in an accessible parking space when I have no need to. What possessed me to do such a terrible thing?

The parking lot was full and I was running late. That mischievous little voice inside — don’t judge, you have one, too — kept saying: “It’s OK, there are no other spaces. What are you expected to do? You’ll totally get away with it. It’s OK, you’re still a good person.”

After going around the parking lot three times, I found myself reversing into the accessible space.

I looked around for witnesses to my crime and there were two senior women standing near by, watching me. I turned to them for reassurance. If they could forgive me, all would be well.

I said: “I feel really bad having to park here, but there are no other spaces; I don’t have a choice.”

Their response was pure perfection: “You always have a choice.”

I was dumbstruck with the simplicity and clarity of that message.

You always have a choice.

With the guilt and the shame proving too much to bear, I promptly exited the parking space. And do you know what happened next?

As I made my way around the parking lot for a fourth time, a space became free.

You always have a choice.

This can be applied to just about everything we do. From the way we drive, to the way we treat ourselves and others.

You always have a choice.

And sometimes that choice is just to wait.

Ladies, if you are reading this, thank you for that important reminder.

MANDY SHAILER

Paget