by Jennifer Zhan, senior editor
You’d think after almost 16 years of me existing, breathing would come automatically. And yet every time I get nervous, there I am, looking like I’ve got a soundless case of the hiccups.
Many different things force me to start counting seconds between breaths. But today, my trigger wasn’t bugs, heights, needles, or even public speaking. It was the airport.
It’s not that I’m a stranger to transportation via flight. Airports have never ranked high on my list of fears. They’re just holding stations, after all — everyone there is waiting to leave.
It turns out, though, when you’re alone, the thought of being in those ‘holding stations’ is a lot scarier. On a solo flight, you have no one to consult in the event of any complications which, I had suddenly realized were innumerable in airports.
If you catalogued my thoughts, you’d find relatively normal concerns, like gate changes, plane malfunctions, and being robbed, but also Jennifer concerns, like the possibility that someone would sneak a weapon into my luggage and I’d be arrested in the security line despite my total innocence.
For the entire week before my trip, I had ruminated over all of the ways I could die a horrifying, drawn-out death on the trip. I related all my worries to anyone who would listen. I even typed out a reference list to make sure I didn’t forget any. As my list got longer, I noticed that my friends and family got less patient, but everyone continued to reassure me that flying alone would only be scary the first time. It was actually a good thing my first solo flight would be when I was still young. Afterwards, I’d be able to fly anywhere by myself without a problem!
I chanted this comforting thought in my head over and over again as I walked through the sliding doors into the airport. Remember, Jennifer, you only have to suffer once. I took my spot in line, hoping that by the time I’d gotten to the front I’d have found a rhythm to my breathing again.
It turns out I, who only had a carry-on, had gotten into the line to check your bags. I found this out when a security guard tapped me on the shoulder, laughing, and asking if I’d really been planning on waiting in this 2 hour line for no reason.
I followed him to the right place amidst hearty chuckles from the people who’d been in line around me. Apparently, it doesn’t matter how many flights you go on if you just blindly follow your parents each time and don’t pay attention to what they do. I definitely wasn’t cut out for flying alone.
This was a recurring thought as the morning wore on. I fumbled through security, feeling the loss of three other pairs of hands to help me hoist my items into different bins, painfully aware that I was holding up the line. I earned a suspicious look from a security guard when I breathed a very audible sigh of relief after I passed through the metal detectors without setting any alarms off. I managed to hit myself in the head while swinging my suitcase into the overhead compartment. Also, it turns out that when the sleeping person sprawled next to you is not your sister, it takes a lot more courage to peel them off your seatbelt and climb over their limbs to get to the bathroom.
Overall, though, when the plane landed I considered the flight a victory. You know, because I was alive. It’s the little things.
By my last day in California, I was dreading going home. But it wasn’t in a cheesy summer-camp-is-my-new-home way. More like a I’m-still-scared-of-flying-by-myself way. Even though I had survived the first time, I was still scared. I still did breathing exercises in the terminal, and dropped things in security.
I know everyone thinks that when you overcome your fears once, you’ll realize that it’s possible and it won’t be scary anymore. I’ll admit that some of my airport-related fears aren’t very realistic. Would there really be a point in switching my driver’s license with a realistic fake just to see me dragged away for fraud in the security checkpoints? Probably not.
But the basis of those fears won’t change. I like certainty. I like to have things planned to a schedule, with backup plans just in case. That’s why I think it’ll be a long time before I’ll be okay with flying by myself. Despite all the feelings that bubble up in me when I’m in a particularly rebellious and resentful mood, I am not ready to face the real world all by myself yet. I don’t like being on a tight schedule and getting in lines, not knowing if they’re the right ones. I don’t like having to sprint across the airport because of a sudden gate change. I like having someone to consult in case a sudden decision needs to be made. And I think that’s okay.
If all fears were as easy to overcome as people say they are, the world would be a very different place. Sometimes you do face your fears and realize there was nothing to be worried about in the first place. But you know what? Sometimes you face your fears, and they’re as scary as you thought they were. All you’ll be able to do is take a deep breath.
