Throughout my childhood and well into adulthood, I was petrified of flying in airplanes. It didn’t matter how hard people tried to convince me that flying was safe.

• “Arla, the pilot wants to get home, too”

• “It is safer to fly than to drive”

• “You have a better chance of being struck by lightening than being in a plane crash”

• “Well folks, the safest part of your journey has just ended; so be careful driving to wherever your final destination takes you,” quipped a smart-ass flight attendant upon landing

…nothing helped. I just couldn’t get over it.

When I had to fly, the apprehension started days in advance; from the minute my reservations were confirmed, really. Shortness of breath, poundy heart, ringing in my ears, inability to concentrate.

When I had to fly, I had unbreakable rituals:

• I would only fly United Airlines. It was bad mojo to fly any other - except maybe for Qantas.

• I would only fly non-stop. I just couldn’t handle thought of multiple take-offs and landings.

• I had to sit in the back of the plane. I’d heard that’s where one was most likely to survive a crash.

• I had to sit in a window seat. I had to be able to see vastness and any lights (life) down below.

• I had to wait until the last call for boarding. Self-explanatory.

• Once seated, I had to twist the air nozzle all the way to blasting and aim it right at my face.

• I prayed my mantra: “Bless this plane and everyone on it” twice; once while entering the plane and again once I was seated with my seatbelt securely fastened.

• No coffee or cola - the caffeine would make things worse - only Diet Sprite or other non-cola soda

• No tomato juice - it had too much sodium and could make my heart pound

• And absolutely, positively, never, ever, ever would I even give passing consideration to giving up my seat on an overbooked flight, no matter how big the travel voucher being offered

I was claustrophobic and anxiety-ridden. The smell of fuel, coffee, or microwaved food; any unidentifiable bumping, banging, or bucking sent me into a panic. I eagle-eyed the faces of the flight attendants watching for the slightest change any of their expressions or in their speaking. I didn’t want to talk to anyone or eat anything (and they served actual meals back then - even in coach class). I kept a death-grip on the top of the seat in front of me and white-knuckled it all the way. I worked very hard to help the pilots keep that plane up in the air.

Ironically, I felt safest in the tiny bathroom. I figured God wouldn’t do that to me while I was in such a vulnerable position.

The lengths I went to.

In my early 30s, I became a “road warrior” (professionals - mostly young and really cool - who flew all around the country, all looking exactly the same, wearing their business suits and shlepping their laptops), first with an IT consulting company, and then as a software salesperson. I HAD to fly.

So freaked out by flying was I, that I would look for any excuse to transport myself in any other way.

One time it was snowing so badly. And I was supposed to fly - right through the snow - to Minneapolis for a client meeting . That idea was so panic-inducing, anxiety-creating, and fear-causing, that I made myself sick. Nope. No. Thank. You.

I called my boss to tell him I would be taking a train that evening instead. My boss couldn’t believe it. He asked, “Are you crazy? You’d rather spend all night on a train rather than spend an hour flying?”

Why, yes. Yes. I. Would.

And. I. Did.

I spent a lot of time flying under the influence of drugs - Propranolol, Xanax, etc. - which helped me get through the flights. I used to joke that while the drugs wouldn’t stop my plane from going down, they sure helped me care a whole lot less. Unfortunately, the pills made me so sleepy and out of it that I stayed drowsy right through the meetings that required me to fly to begin with.

All of this is by way of giving you a glimpse into the enormity of the terror I felt when faced with flying. I know, it was a lot. It was exhausting..

To make matters worse, I felt embarrassed. And ashamed.

How I finally overcame the fear.

I have since learned that my thoughts about flying were responsible for my fear and anxiety. My fear was responsible for the behaviors and actions I took - all of them. And the result I created was to work my life around flying rather than work flying into my life. And learning that been life-changing.Back in my 30s, I was fortunate to have found an amazing practitioner of “Thought Field Therapy,” (thank you, Dr. Stoller), created by the late Roger Callahan and carried on by his wife and co-creator Joanne Callahan, www.rogercallahan.com) also referred to as “TFT.” It is commonly known as “tapping.” For me, the practice was specifically to “clear” my fear of flying.

After just 3 TFT sessions, and then repeating my prescribed tapping regimen (in a bathroom stall) just before getting on a plane, I ACTUALLY OVERCAME THE FEAR! IT WORKED!

Today (and for the past 30ish years), I am a different flyer. Now I love it! I even look forward to it!

Now I fly with heavenly, peaceful abandon!

I recently re-discovered tapping through Callahan Techniques, Ltd. and an awesome online practitioner, Brad Yates (tapwithbrad.com) and am so excited to share the tapping sequences with people who are fearful flyers and wish to clear that fear.

Want more help to learn the tapping sequence to clear your fearful flying? I offer individual sessions via Zoom. Just click the Contact link above and write me.

Yours in relaxed and peaceful flight,
Life Coach Arla