Fear - The Big F Word

Hello pretty people,

Some of you know me, some of you do not. Of those of you who do, a smaller number of you know that my biggest fear in the world, what it has been all my life, is getting on a plane.

I can't ever remember not being scared of planes, when I was younger I just assumed I would always be scared of them, and I never had any desire to see any more of the world than England, as it would be getting close to one of those massive, terrifying flying machines, that seemed like they could fall out of the sky any moment.

Before you say this in the comments, trust me, I have heard it many times that flying is the safest way to travel, and that I'm much more likely to be hurt in the car ride to the airport than in the plane itself. But with any irrational fear,  facts no longer matter, and all that is apparent is how much that certain thing makes you want to cry and run a million miles in the opposite direction. Think about it, we all know that spiders can't really kill you in this country, and will very rarely hurt you even a tiny bit, yet the majority of people will scream when a little one runs across the floor. We know it cannot hurt us, but something within us screams 'danger'.

Until I was about 17/18, I couldn't look at planes in the sky, nor films with planes in, even mere pictures or the thought would turn me on edge and make me jumpy. I remember once waiting for the X Factor auditions with a friend and it being near an airfield. The planes going over made me feel sick and shaky everytime it happened, even though I couldn't even see them through my tightly-closed eyes.

Unfortunately, at this age is the time when friends begin to go on holiday together, and I found myself suddenly turning down requests to go on girls holidays, post-A level holidays, trips to visit friend in other countries. While my facebook feed began to be flooded with my nearest and dearest with gorgeous tans and bright cocktails in the sun, I stayed home and shuddered at the thought of how they had to get there.

Yet, despite my crippling fear, I really started to feel like I was missing out, and it hurt a lot. So I went to the doctors and started my first attempt in the long journey of ridding myself of this fear. He told me I first had to desensitize myself to the image of planes, and should put pictures of them in places where I would see them often. I couldn't bring myself to put them out in the open, but I hid a little picture of a plane in my bedside table, and every night I would force myself to look at it. Eventually I decided that I would find out the specific type of plane it was, and built up a whole image of the way it flew, how many people it could hold etc.

For the first time, I forced myself to stare out a plane flying above me, I felt like a tiny little mouse locking eyes with an elephant about to stomp me to oblivion. It must seem mad to anyone reading this, but the sense of accomplishment was unreal. Now when I see them above me I force myself to watch them until they are out of sight. It's like an act of defiance against my fear.

Then I took another step, I wanted to see one close up, and touch one. So one weekend my Dad took me to Duxford airfield, a place where modern and vintage aeroplanes are stored for show, so you can look around them and see the insides of them, how they work etc. For the first time in my life, I shakily stepped on a plane. To my surprise, it wasn't nearly as terrifying as I thought, and my excitement about seeing all the WW2 aterfacts (which I am slightly obsessed with) slightly overshadowed my fear. I learnt exactly how planes stay in the air, what they are made of, and how and who makes them.

Now...I seem to find myself at the end of my journey into conquering this fear. There's nothing left I can really do to help me along my way, and it's now come to the breaking point. I have to actually fly in one. I have known this for a while and something is still holding me back. But I have made a decision that THIS YEAR, I will finally do it. This will be the year that I actually get on one. I will cry, and howl and shake and protest, but I will make sure I do it and get rid of this confinement to one country and I will finally see the world!

My dream has always, always been to go to Borneo and volunteer with endangered Orangutans there, helping build shelters for them, and rescuing injured ones who have been damaged by human interruption. Maybe now, if I actually manage to stick my bum on one of those lined up seats (probably with the help of a gin and tonic or two) that dream will actually be a possibility. My boyfriend and a few friends are currently in New York at the moment, seeing the world and enjoying being young, and I think it's high time I started doing so.

2014 will be the year I fly.

Picture - Some friends and I (far right) on holiday last year in Devon. I thought I'd put a happy holiday pic in after this rather serious post!

(To anyone who made it through this massive post, well done and I love you! Please comment if you have any fears, whether big or small, and if you have any tips on how to conquer them!)