Finding Me Again

I have been afraid of flying for most of my life.

Not nervous.

Not uncomfortable.

Terrified.

Because of that fear, I missed out on things that mattered to me. Family reunions. Weddings. Trips. Opportunities to make memories.

Fear made the decision for me long before I ever had the chance to.

I would imagine everything that could go wrong instead of everything that could go right.

Then, two years ago, something happened.

A friend at work gave me a long talk about flying.

He listened to my fears and then said something that stayed with me.

He told me that if I needed to, I could ask my doctor for something to help me relax. He told me I could have a drink if it helped calm my nerves.

But most importantly, he told me to stop focusing on the flight and start focusing on the destination.

He said, “Think about where you’ll be in four hours.”

That simple sentence changed something for me.

For years, I had spent all my energy thinking about the flight.

The turbulence.

The takeoff.

The fear.

I never thought about the reward waiting on the other side.

Then one day I stopped by his office to visit him.

Before I knew it, he was telling everyone that I was going on a trip and that I already had my plane ticket.

I remember standing there thinking, “What is he doing?”

But the truth is, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He knew how much I respected him.

He knew that once he told everyone, I would feel committed.

He knew I wasn’t going to let him down.

And maybe, in his own way, he knew I needed a little push.

Not because he was trying to pressure me.

Because he believed I could do something that I wasn’t sure I could do myself.

So I got on the plane.

Was I scared?

Absolutely.

I remember sitting in my seat as the plane started moving toward the runway. My heart was pounding. Every part of me wanted to get off and go home.

Then I remembered his words.

“Think about where you’ll be in four hours.”

So I closed my eyes and imagined my destination instead of my fear.

When the plane lifted off the ground, I realized I was doing something I had been afraid of my entire life.

And when I landed, I realized something important.

Fear had been stealing experiences from me for years.

Not because the fear wasn’t real.

But because I had allowed it to decide what I could and couldn’t do.

That first flight wasn’t just a trip.

It was the beginning of something bigger.

For years, fear had convinced me that I couldn’t do it.

But once I got on that plane and made it through the flight, something changed.

Since then, I’ve flown six more times.

Every trip became a reminder that fear doesn’t always tell the truth.

The woman who once missed family reunions, weddings, and opportunities because she was afraid to fly became someone who boarded a plane again and again.

Not because the fear completely disappeared.

But because I finally stopped letting it make my decisions.

The truth is, courage isn’t the absence of fear.

Courage is being afraid and doing it anyway.

Today, when I think about flying, I still remember my friend’s advice.

Don’t focus on the four hours in the air.

Focus on where you’ll be when you land.

Sometimes that advice applies to more than flying.

Sometimes it applies to life.

Because some of the most beautiful experiences are waiting on the other side of the things that scare us the most.

And sometimes all it takes is one person who believes in you enough to give you the push you need.

I almost didn’t take that trip.

I’m so grateful I did.