Are you surprised? I lived in Hong Kong for half a decade, I write a travel blog and I fly regularly. How could I possibly have a fear of flying?
If it helps, I’ve often asked myself the same question.
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Where did the fear of flying come from?
My fear of flying properly started to manifest itself a couple of years ago. I haven’t been able to pin it down to anything in particular. There were no traumatising air travel experiences, no personal tragedies. No reason to doubt that the plane I’m travelling on will do anything other than get me from A to B.
It was around the time of the 2014 Malaysia Airlines and AirAsia incidents (yes, still one of the safest years on record for air travel, I know my facts). Although I like to think that I knew better than to fall victim to the media’s sensationalist depictions of air travel after these events happened, I guess they were more of an influence than I realised at the time.
I was also taking some medication that triggered some bad anxiety. So my best guess is that current events, plus a medical haze of irrationality, equals panic attacks at forty thousand feet?
Then again, I’m not a psychiatrist and it’s very plausible that neither of these factors were anything to do with my fear of flying at all. Maybe I was just getting a bit older and realised that I wasn’t invincible and I latched onto flying as an outlet for that realisation.
Who knows why the brain does the things it does? Am I right?
The point is that the first step to overcoming your fear of flying is to work out where it came from. Without a specific source to pinpoint my phobia on, was difficult for me to know how to treat mine. However, with a passion for travel and three years of living in Hong Kong behind me, I couldn’t just resolve to stop travelling by plane. It wasn’t an option – I needed to find a way to manage my fear of flying.
The first time it happened
I didn’t even realise that I had a fear of flying until I went away for a long weekend with friends to Singapore. I’d usually get some mild butterflies in my stomach at take-off, and it was more excitement than anything, but this time it was different. I was fine when boarding, but as soon as we sped up down the runway I burst into tears. I couldn’t catch my breath. My heart was racing. I was descending into a spiral of panic and couldn’t pull myself out of it.
Once the seatbelt sign was off, I went to the toilet and curled up in a ball for five minutes sobbing. I tried to distract myself with magazines, music, films… nothing helped.
I cried for most of the four-hour flight and the panic didn’t lift until the plane touched the ground… and then I was fine.
What the hell was that about? I thought as I passed through Immigration, laughing with my friends about my ridiculous behaviour. I shrugged it off, thinking it was a one-time thing.
It wasn’t.
Almost every flight I took over the following couple of years triggered the same reaction. As soon as we’re picking up speed down the runway then my heart starts beating really fast, I struggle to breathe, I try not to throw up and tears stream down my face.
Other passengers look at me like I’m being an idiot (they’re right to), while stewards and stewardesses raise eyebrows and pass me a tissue.
And the thing is… I know I’m being insane.
I know the facts:
- We’re experiencing the safest ever period in history for aviation.
- Hundreds and thousands of flights take place every day.
- Flying is one of the safest way to travel.
- I’m much more likely to die in a car crash on the way to the airport than on a plane.
- Turbulence is perfectly normal.
- I’m more likely to be struck by lightning, or win the lottery, or meet an alien (OK, maybe not that one), than die in a plane crash.
But there is some unreasonable part of me that is fighting this rationale. A part of me that is obsessed with my own mortality. A part of me that is convinced that, despite the odds, this will be the one flight that goes down. A claustrophobic part of me that doesn’t like it that I can’t change my mind and get off a plane once it’s in the air.
I like to imagine that part of me as a little green gremlin who whispers lies in my ear, twists my insides into knots with his knobbly green gremlin hands and cackles with glee at my suffering.
And to that gremlin I say… FUCK YOU.
You will not prevent me from doing what I love, or rob me of seeing the world, or stop me from getting on the plane. YOU WILL NOT WIN.
So I’m managing it. Each time I fly, I learn a little more about what the gremlin likes and doesn’t like. And I want to help others fight their gremlins too because I know I’m not the only one out there with this problem. I’ve met people of all ages and backgrounds who suffer with the same annoying devil on their shoulder and sadly it prevents a lot of people from seeing the beautiful places that this planet has to offer.
Here is a short list of things that help me kick my gremlin in the balls and, although everyone’s gremlin is different, I hope that this helps people to fight their fear of flying too and ultimately see the world:
1. Read the inflight magazine
As soon as I find my seat and sit down, I turn off my phone and read the inflight magazine cover to cover. I learn about the airline, I read about the different places I can travel to and I study the flight map that shows all the routes the airline takes. Looking through the duty free pages, I play a game where I pick one thing on each page that I would buy if I had to. I only look up from the magazine to listen to the safety instructions and watch the plane take off…
2. Choose the window seat
Personally, I find that I am calmer if I watch the plane take off. I have friends with a fear of flying that prefer to close their eyes and pretend it’s not happening, but this is what works best for me. If I’m in an aisle or middle-section seat and I can’t see what’s going on then every little bump and turn feels ten times worse. I always request a window seat at check-in for this reason if I can’t book in advance. Most airline staff are very accommodating in this respect.
3. Travel during the day
I am much calmer travelling in the daytime than at night. Again, I think this is because I like to be able to see what’s going on.
4. Don’t eat the plane food
I do not eat plane food. Nothing makes me feel more nauseous when I am already feeling nervous. I am happy to go hungry for the entirety of a long-haul flight and just drink water so that nothing is churning in my stomach during those moments when I feel the gremlin grip my insides.
5. Read a book
If there are films available and I calm down quickly after takeoff, then of course I will take advantage of any inflight entertainment and watch a film or two. However, I have found that the best way to distract myself is by reading fiction. Hear me out – I think this is because when you’re reading fiction you are forced to use your imagination. You have to commit to the world of the book and block out your surroundings. You become completely immersed in the world of the novel.
And really, fear is simply imagination. That’s all it is – your imagination thinking up different scenarios that are very, very unlikely to actually happen. When you’re on the plane nothing bad is happening to you, but you are obsessed with the idea that something might, right? Fear is fiction. By distracting this part of your brain with another fiction, there is no room for ‘what if…?’ scenes to play out in your head.
6. Do your research
Did you know that turbulence is caused by changes in air flow, or crossing the flight path of another plane? That planes fly the same way birds do – that air sticks to the wings? Did you know that pilots can still land a plane safely if all the engines fail?
I was once on a plane from Amsterdam to Birmingham (UK) at night. The fog was so thick I thought we were still in the clouds when suddenly BOOM we had landed. The pilots used a system called autoland to safely land the plane in poor visibility. I had no idea you could even do that. It was amazing. My friend and I thanked the pilot as we got off the plane and he cheerfully said, ‘You’re welcome!’ like it was no big deal.
7. Give yourself some adrenaline training
I love roller coasters. Roller coasters with a massive drop, roller coasters that go upside down and roller coasters that travel at record-breaking high speeds. The more roller coasters I go on, the more that shuts the gremlin up because I’m enjoying the very things that I dislike air travel for.
Any opportunity I get to go on a roller coaster, go diving, cliff-jumping or do some other dangerous thing that my mum thinks is a bad idea, I do it. I take a deep breath and just go for it. The adrenaline pumps around my body and I always get an ecstatic high afterwards. Things like this remind me that fear is natural and can even be fun!
8. Count to five
This is a technique I read about in an airline magazine on a plane (told you that came in handy). When you feel yourself getting nervous when flying, count five things that you can see, then five things you can hear and five things you can feel. Then do the same with four, three, two and one without repeating any. This has worked wonders for me because a) you’re distracting yourself from your fear with a task, and b) you are literally listing of all the things that are totally normal about flying.
9. Embrace your fear
As mentioned above, fear is just imagination and imagination is evidence of a creative mind. Some of the most intelligent and creative people in history struggled with phobias because it’s a consequence of an active imagination.
Alfred Hitchcock had a phobia of eggs. Gustave Eiffel (ironically, the designer of the Eiffel Tower) had a fear of heights. Elvis Presley, Muhammad Ali and Johnny Cash all reportedly had – you guessed it – a fear of flying. You’re in good company.
This amazing TED Talk on What Fear Can Teach Us by Karen Thompson Walker is worth a watch if you want to learn more about why fear can be a talent:
10. Don’t wait for your fear to subside
The longer you put off flying, the stronger the gremlin gets. Maybe I will never ‘get over’ my fear of flying, but I am much more scared of not getting on a plane and not being able to see the world than I am of flying. So get on the plane. Fly and fly again until it’s not as scary any more. The benefits of travel far outweigh the uncomfortable experience of the plane ride.
If all else fails, try therapy
If, after all that, your fear of flying is as bad as ever, I highly recommend therapy and specifically Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP), which helps reprogram the the subconscious mind.
I’ve worked with Nicky Maidment at Purpleminds NLP on my mental health and it’s not an exaggeration to say the sessions were life-changing, so I highly recommend her. She does great work with phobias as well as other issues. Plus, she’s a digital nomad too, so she does online sessions, which is super-convenient.
Don’t let your fear of flying stop you
So, the moral of the story is don’t let your fear of flying stop you doing what you love. Work out what is best for you to manage the fear that you have. Everyone is different, but I promise there are solutions out there for everyone. You just need a little time to figure out what they are.
Don’t be ashamed of your fear of flying and do yourself a favour and don’t give into it either. Don’t treat fear as failure. Take your gremlin on holiday with you and show him what he’s missing!
Safe flights!
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