Jennifer Anniston, Sandra Bullock and Whoopi Goldberg all have something in common with me: we've been afraid to fly.
But I'm getting over it - and I wish everyone else who hyperventilates at the thought of a plane could feel the liberation of finally flying (almost) without fear.
It took me years to be able to get on a plane without almost throwing up, in spite of my love of travel.
I come from a family of air force pilots. I flew when I was a baby. In college I would book the 'long way' home to enjoy the extra landings and takeoffs.
Somewhere along the line it all went terribly wrong and I developed severe flight anxiety.
I began cancelling holidays with friends so I wouldn't have to fly; I'd sail - even though I hate water, almost drowned once and can't swim; I'd take lots of pills and knock myself out; or I'd fork out the extra money when I could and fly Business Class - because somehow Business Class doesn't crash, right?
My work, first as a journalist and then as a development worker for the UN, meant I had to fly not just in 'safe' places but into corners of Africa and Asia where castoff planes went to smoke themselves into a heap.
I was going to have to get a grip on this fear of planes, this flight phobia, and figure out how to get over fear of flying quickly.
To fix this agonizing plane anxiety, I first had to find out what it was.
As a journalist I visited some relatively untamed places and the flights often scared me more than guns and mortars.
I wondered whether some past event had triggered my fear but no, I couldn't find anything specific - just memories of terrible flights... approaching the runway sideways in London in high winds... smoke in the cabin flying out of Vientiane... a door that wouldn't close in Nigeria... scary, but not enough to create this level of panic. I did survive, after all.
What really seemed to shake me was turbulence.
I knew turbulence was a normal part of flying but, trapped in a small aluminium cage 10,000 meters above the earth's crust, it felt anything but normal.
The moment we'd hit a gentle bump my heart would slap against my rib cage and a rock the size of a basketball would lodge in my chest, forcing my breath to build up until it pushed tears out of my eyes.
When turbulence got worse, I got worse.
I would look around and yes, I'd see a few white knuckles but that lady over in 32C, she was reading, and that man in front of me, he was ASLEEP. Meantime I was thinking of my family, whom I'd never see again, and I hadn't even made out a will and my finances were a mess and I didn't believe in the afterlife and I was so so scared I promised I would lose weight/save money/exercise regularly if only, just this once, I could land safely.
And then there's severe lightning, my other great fear. I was caught in a massive electrical storm over Java one night and could see tendrils of light sizzling everywhere. I know pilots fly at least 20 miles from the center of a storm but I swear I could reach out and touch the bolts. The plane was filled with Dutch tourists and you know you should worry when even the composed Dutch begin screaming.
My other brush with lightning was a bit of a shock because it occurred below me over northern Spain on my way to Galicia. The clouds were black and I don't use that word with any literary exaggeration. Black. Ebony. Charcoal. And I watched the sparks and the lightning dance, grateful to be above it all.
Whatever scares you - lightning, turbulence, closed spaces - it doesn't matter. Fear is fear. It's irrational and very personal.
We each have to find our own solutions.
The good news? There are solutions.
Having identified my trigger points - turbulence and to a slightly lesser extent lighting - I set about trying to wrestle my enemies to the ground.
As a Taurean, I was systematic and did things in order, color-coded lists and all. (And if you happen to be crouched on the ground right now clutching a teddy bear between two unoccupied rows, hoping no one will notice, you might try #3 or #7.)
This was the single most important step in transitioning from nervous flyer to relatively calm. I started talking to pilots (they gather on online forums, just like travelers) and to air safety experts. I read up on airplane anxiety and picked up plenty of fear of flying tips.
I learned that turbulence is natural, normal and... not dangerous for the plane. Nor is lightning.
The plane will not fall out of the sky.
If you'd like something slightly more scientific and knowledgeable, here's Patrick Smith's answer on Ask the Pilot. These two analogies worked when I pictured them in my mind:
Lightning, believe it or not, is also normal and strikes more often than you think (not that this will necessarily reduce your flight anxiety). But you'll be fine. Here's why:
That said - planes still fall out of the sky, don't they?
Not often. The number of plane accidents and fatalities is tiny. When a plane has an accident, the media keeps it rolling 24/7 because so many people die at the same time, in a dramatic, often unfathomable way. Crashes that remain unexplained haunt us for years.
But if we look at the numbers, all that noise is not really justified.
If you REALLY want to stay safe, sell your car.
Despite these numbers, too many people remain terrified of flying. Recent studies estimate that about one-quarter of all flyers still wish they were anywhere but on a plane. I'd bet the figure is higher.
The more I know about my flight, the safer I feel up there.
If it's a mess, with bumps and noise and lightning, I'd like the captain to get on the intercom and tell me not to worry, that everything will be fine. It's a bit like a doctor's bedside manner: it can make all the difference.
Some pilots - the Brits and Americans especially - are wonderful airline communicators. Others - I'm thinking Spanish and Swiss airlines here - forget there's a planeload of passengers riding along behind them and rarely say anything. I remember one flight from Dakar to Madrid which tossed our little plane around like paper in the wind. Most of the passengers were African and many looked as though this was their first flight. Some were crying; others were praying. It would have been nice for the captain to spend 15 seconds calming people down and if he couldn't spare the 15 seconds, we were in worse trouble than I thought.
The panic and clammy hands and rapid heartbeat, at least for me, used to start well before my gate number was posted (and yes, I tend to get to the airport very early, 2-3 hours before my flight at least).
There is plenty I've learned to do beforehand to help get rid of that basketball stuck in my chest.
Any one of these actions can help.
If your mind is busy, it won't keep telling you you're scared to fly. Distractions range from practising mindfulness to reading an inspirational and riveting book to meditating or listening to audio books. Just get your mind off the flight and into something else. Distract yourself. I travel with my Kindle and read several books at once.
Most inflight entertainment systems have some kind of meditation or relaxation exercises. Do them. Don't neglect the physical relaxation exercises and the breathing: a tense body does not make for a relaxed mind.
I've also, with practice, become acceptably good at seeing movies in my mind - you may have heard of that exercise, in which you pretend you're watching a movie reel and put whatever you want on it?
My movie reel usually starts at my destination. If I'm headed to Paris my reel will have the requisite Eiffel Tower and Montmartre but it will also have me ripping apart a baguette, nibbling a macaron from Ladurée, picking up a book at Shakespeare and Co or window shopping along the Rue de Rivoli. It will be so real I can smell the croissants in the boulangerie.
Reams of paper and millions of pixels have been expended writing about de-stressing to fly so I won't revisit that research. What I will say is that finding a way to calm yourself before you get on the flight is an excellent way of putting that pre-flight time to good use.
If you absolutely cannot do this on your own, there's always chemical help. I've gone that route and while meds have helped me get on the plane, I was pretty much useless once I landed. Not helpful if you're traveling for work and have to make sense a few hours after you arrive (suffering from jet lag is enough without adding to it), or if you have a lot of flights to take.
In addition, there are clear and present dangers linked to flight anxiety remedies. They may enhance the risk of deep vein thrombosis by increasing the amount of time you are immobile. And in the unlikely event of an emergency, chemically induced sleep is not where you want to be.
Go talk to your doctor and see what she has to say.
Some people think not eating will actually relax them. Evidence points the other way and the common wisdom now is eat, drink and be merry. Well, eat and drink at least.
I usually eat a full meal before flying because most airplane food is awful and the last thing I need to worry about is a grumbling stomach.
If you plan to eat in-flight, here are a few tips:
Some years ago, Swissair offered a weekend fear of flying course. The first day was spent in a conference room, learning theory (it's normal for planes to lift off and wiggle!) and talking to flight attendants about their own experience.
One particularly enthusiastic instructor almost had me screaming as she swooned, "I loooove to fly, so beautiful up in the sky!" Yep, and if I thought that, I wouldn't be spending my Saturday locked in here with you.
The next day was 'graduation': you got to fly to Zurich and back!
Fly when I don't have to?? I don't think so.
So I failed the course, becoming a statistic in the process (99% of attendees beat their fear of flying after this course - I was the 1%). Wait a minute, think about it:
99% of the class passed - I hear they even enjoyed their flight!
So the odds are seriously in your favor. There's every chance - 99 in 100, actually - that you will pass the course.
Some courses have great reputations, like SOAR, put together by Capt Tom Bunn, who also happens to be a trained therapist (click here to read about my SOAR experience). One of the most valuable aspects of my course was regular access to a trained pilot (sorry if I abused your good nature, Captain Tom!)
If you're not ready for a full course, try the book version of SOAR.
Here's something else that really helped me. Remember - we'll each have our own solutions and success stories and you'll have to do your own experimenting.
I have many friends who swear by hypnosis. It worked well for them, but I tried something slightly different.
I used EFT to reduce my flying anxiety.
This is a simple tapping process called Emotional Freedom Technique: you tap your fingers gently around your eyes, lips and neck - there's a specific pattern and you just follow along. Or, you can go to a professional EFT practitioner.
I wish I had an exciting story to tell about how, nearly overnight, I was magically cured by EFT and began flying with joy forever after. That would have made a far better story but reality is slightly different.
I tried it for a few sessions. Little by little, the anxiety began to lift. I went from extreme fear of flying to scared of planes to "I can do this".
And then I had a wonderful surprise.
I was flying to Geneva and a friend of mine, a pilot for a European airline, got me into the cockpit for the flight.
And it was the most fun I've ever had!
I finally realized what had scared me: not knowing! Not knowing what was going on during turbulence. Not knowing what was going on when the engines revved up. Not knowing how to decipher the look on a flight attendant's face.
My two hours in the cockpit dispelled all those fears. I was encouraged to ask questions. Each time something strange happened, I was told what it was and why.
I'm now convinced my phobia was about CONTROL - my inability to control the situation, of course, but also my ignorance of it.
If I were in charge of global aviation and I wanted people to actually enjoy flying (and fly more often as a result), here's what I would do:
All right, so a few of these suggestions might be a tad unrealistic or maybe not even legal but... why not dream?
You've read this far and your heart is still beating to the sound of conga drums. But you're on the flight, buckled in and yes, girl, you've made it! The doors are closing and you are STAYING ON that flight! Just remember...
These strategies all served me well for years. And then, for some reason, things changed. As I prepared for a trip to Colombia, suddenly that sickening pre-flight anxiety crept in.
"I hate flying," I kept thinking.
"I am afraid to fly," I told myself a little more truthfully.
And there it was. A week from that admission, I would be taking 12 flights in ten days. Over mountains. Through winter storms (of course I'd checked the extended weather forecasts). And sometimes in planes smaller than your average Australian insect.
Since this was a professional assignment, I had little choice. The clock was ticking - and I needed some fear of flying help. This is when I decided to take some fear of flying classes - and I found an excellent course. (Click here to read about how it worked for me.)
I'm still not jubilant when I fly and I'll probably never swoon at the thought of hovering above the clouds. But... it's OK. Not bad. Sometimes even fun. My nails don't dig into anyone anymore. I can breathe, and at times I even enjoy the view.
My life is no longer shortened by the stress I used to feel each time I had to fly. Now I'm just grateful to get to the airport because once I'm there, I feel the most dangerous part of the journey is finally out of the way.
And I can relax.
Have you ever been afraid of flying and how do you cope with it? Please let me know in the comments below.