What are you Afraid of…

Everyone has some sort of fear, whether it be new situations, spiders, heights, etc.. Moving to a new city forces you to face some of those fears or insecurities whether you like it or not.

One of my fears is of flying.  And this sounds absolutely absurd, as I grew up flying.   Internationally.  I mean loooooong flights.  I was fine with it.  Flying was my norm.  And then, all of a sudden, I needed to be slightly under the influence of alcohol prior to boarding a flight.  I’m talking a solid Jameson Ginger Ale at 6 am.  ( Can I blame law school for this?)  Especially small planes.  I will not get on small planes…. But after moving here, I was forced to face this fear, whether I liked it or not.

When your CEO needs to be literally in two places at once, a private small plane is the only transportation option.  And by small, I mean a four seat-er.  TINY.  Have a panic attack TINY.

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The week leading up to this was full of pure dread.  Everyone around me knew about it and was probably sick of hearing about it.  Tons of people regularly use this mode of transportation.  Why was it such a big deal to me?  I felt like I was walking the *freakin* plank as I headed up to this thing.

As we prepared for take off, my CEO wanted to prepare for our presentation.  He began to prep, I looked at him, and gave him the hand.  And I mean the 1990’s “talk to the hand” gesture.  I could not speak. Finally he realized the extent of this fear.  He commented that at least in the case of disaster, this plane could float.

NOT HELPING.  To be extremely anti-climatic, we made it safely to Fort Wayne, Indiana.  But that was only half the battle.  I had to get on that thing AGAIN!

Since I survived the first round, I felt it was time to really face that fear.  I had zero plans to board another plane like this ever again, so no time like the present.  Time to co-pilot.

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This was even worse.  It felt like there was zero protection between me and the open air.  Any minute I thought the plane door would explode and out I would fall.   Quite a few deep breaths were taken and my pilot began an in depth discussion on the science and history of flight, mixed in with his personal history.  And I survived.  Conquered it.  Done.

What have you faced lately?  Will you do it again?

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