Why I’m Scared Of Planes: Thoughts On Love And Mortality
As a child, going to the airport was one of my favourite things. I think sometimes I would actually be more excited about the flight than the trip. I remember not understanding how people could possibly be afraid of flying. To me, it was one long amusement park ride. I looked forward to running back and forth along the moving walkways, seeing if I could beat my dad in a race. I loved the feeling of the plane taking off, the drop I would get in my stomach when the plane finally lifted its front wheels off the ground.
I grew up travelling often, so when I moved from North Carolina to London, I hardly thought about the nine-hour plane ride. During the turmoil of my first year in the city, I saw the plane ride as a break from reality. Nothing could reach me thirty-two thousand feet in the air. The plane rides became a comfort to me, an escape. I still looked forward to them, and still found excitement in the moving walkways.
Then I fell in love.
I always wondered how falling in love would feel. As someone who didn’t really date in high school, love was an abstract concept when I arrived at university. Did I ever think it would make me absolutely terrified of flying? No - that wasn’t exactly my plan.
When I left for Christmas break after I became involved with my boyfriend, I felt the anxiety pooling in my stomach. I chalked it up to being tired and headed off to the airport. I just felt so odd. As the tube pulled into the terminal, the anxiety had become pure dread. I remember thinking I must be ill or something, because I couldn’t possibly be scared of getting on that plane. Right? The plane took off and it was the first time ever that the drop in my stomach wasn’t fun. Throughout the flight, the anxiety ebbed and flowed, but remained nevertheless. When the plane landed after what felt like years, my anxiety spiral gave way to sweet relief. This relief was short-lived, however, as I ruminated on the fact that I didn’t like flying anymore. I was suddenly overwhelmed with regret that I had taken those fear-free days for granted. What had changed? Love. I had found myself so in love that even the smallest possibility of losing that frightened me to my core. As much as I flew between the USA and London, I knew I needed to work on this new phobia. Now what’s one of the facts you’ll hear most frequently when researching flight anxiety? It’s safer than riding in a car! Amazingly, this did not make me feel better about flying but instead made me scared of driving.
I’ve never thought about mortality as much as I do now. Frankly, I struggled with valuing my life in my teenage years. But even once I began to see life as a gift, I never thought I’d be scared of dying. This all sounds morbid, but I don’t see it that way at all. Falling in love made everything I valued even more precious. One of my favourite films is About Time. It’s a time-travel film, and at one point the main character explains that he lives each day as if he travelled back in time just to experience it again. Since seeing the film for the first time I always tried to do this, but inevitably ended up rotting inside more days than I should’ve. Since falling in love, gratitude and affection towards the mundane come naturally to me. Everything just seems brighter. At least once a day my face hurts from how much I smile or laugh. I used to have these frown lines that would never seem to go away. I would always scrutinise them out of fascination and maybe some annoyance (which resulted in more frowning and making them worse). But I looked in the mirror recently, and they’re gone? For the first time in years, they are completely gone! I now have actual proof that at this time in my life I frown significantly less. A miracle really, as a once avid frowner.
I believe that when you fall in love with the right person, you also fall in love with yourself. You begin to take notice of all the wonderful parts you used to dismiss. We are so critical of ourselves that we struggle to understand how others see us without those negative thoughts clouding their vision. The intimacy of being truly seen is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received. My boyfriend doesn’t give me my value, he helps me see what is already there. And it’s not just him who’s done this, it’s my family and my friends. The love that surrounds me. When you value yourself you learn who to let in, and who to tune out. You don’t waste time with people or things not meant for you. You find comfort in the life you’ve worked hard to build.
I’ve been with my boyfriend for almost a year now, and yes I am still afraid of flying. I started writing this when I realized that, in less than a month, I’ll be doing the same nine-hour flight that started it all. Instead of fighting the anxiety, however, I will let it in. I will welcome it. I will welcome it because I am so fortunate to have a life that I cherish so deeply. I’ve realized that I’m actually excited as well. I’m ready for my break in the sky. I’m ready to be home with my family. I’m grateful. More importantly, I’m at peace. It’s been a while since I let that in.
Edited by Roxy-Moon Dahal Hodson
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