For most of my life I’ve been extremely afraid of flying. Up until a couple years ago, it was not uncommon for me to dig my fingernails into the thighs of the innocent passengers sitting next to me during takeoff, scream “Goodbye cruel world!” at the first sign of turbulence, or load up on so much anti-anxiety medication before my flight that I once tried to take a nap on a moving walkway at the airport. My first trip to Europe forced me to face my fears, because as scary as a 12-hour flight sounded, the idea of being too afraid to see the world was much, much scarier. I learned some coping techniques and chilled out quite a bit, but I would still categorize myself as an “extremely nervous flyer.”
Sometimes the only way to conquer a fear is to dive into it headfirst. Which is how I arrived at a tiny airport 20 miles outside of Portland, trying to hide my shaking knees as my flight instructor explained the basics of a smooth takeoff… Keep reading »
