It’s Wicked Wednesday again!
I am not a comfortable flyer.
I’m never going to be happy on an aeroplane, I’ve accepted that, and it’s okay, it’s just not my thing. I won’t become a pilot, or an air hostess, and whenever I do find myself on a plane, I will plug in the headphones, and watch the screen on the back of the chair in front of me, desperately trying to convince myself that I’m firmly on the ground.
I’ve not flown often in my time, so lack of practice is probably a part of my fear, but I do find myself being awfully embarrassing on planes when I do fly, and I never seem to care until the aircraft has safely landed, by which point I can fully comprehend my own behaviour.
I rely on the air hosts and hostesses, and I like to have one in my view at all times. I like to be able to check if they are still calm and smiling, and while they are, I feel that I can probably assume that the plane is showing all signs of staying in the sky.
I have ricked my neck on flights, just trying to check the air host/hostesses expressions. I’m sure some of them were a bit concerned as to why there was a weird kid constantly watching them from aisle H.
I sit in my seat on planes. I don’t get up, not even to go to the toilet if I can avoid it. Sometimes, when we’re landing, I yell just as loudly as the babies and the toddlers do. The shame kicks in later.
On my last flight, another passenger actually looked to me for entertainment, because my reaction to the entire landing process was obviously so over the top.
So I’m not a comfortable flier, and, if I’m honest, I the d to make the experience more uncomfortable for all the people around me. And I’m not even sorry about it.