I Flew 18 Times Last Year and 19 Times So Far This Year (Yes, this is personal growth. Please clap.)

​I have always been deeply, spiritually, dramatically uncomfortable with flying. And by uncomfortable, I mean the full theatrical production..crying, hyperventilating, and enough nervous sweat to personally hydrate a small village. Specifically, boob sweat. A truly humbling experience for everyone involved.

There was a time when my pre-flight ritual included washing down a couple Benadryl with a bottle of wine. I even flirted with Xanax for long flights until I woke up drooling on a stranger’s shoulder like a sedated golden retriever on a flight home from Sedona. Nothing bonds two humans faster than waking up mid-flight and realizing you’ve used someone as a pillow for three hours. Phoenix to Charlotte was a learning lesson in personal space for me.  

And yet… I never stopped flying. Because I love a vacation more than I hate public humiliation.

For years, the anxiety didn’t live on the plane, it lived in the days leading up to the plane. The countdown. The dread. The dramatic inner monologue. I have friends who are pilots and airplane mechanics who have given me the “flying is safer than driving” speech approximately 4,762 times. Didn’t matter. Anxiety does not respond to logic. Anxiety responds to vibes. And my vibes were screaming. Hell NO!!!!

Then came the career opportunity.

The kind you don’t hesitate on. The kind you say yes to immediately because you worked your butt off for it and you know it’s a door you don’t get twice. Then about 12 minutes later the realization hits…“Oh. This job requires flying twice a month. Cool cool cool cool cool. Love that for me.” And just like that, your girl was now a frequent flyer of what I lovingly refer to as the fart tube.

The problem? I don’t drink anymore. So my former “pharmaceutical cocktail of poor decisions” was no longer available. This was going to require actual growth. Real self-help. The kind where you stare at motivational quotes and whisper “I got this.” The first few work trips… Let’s just say I emotionally packed an extra pair of pants(use your imagination here folks). Every flight got a tiny bit easier. Not because the fear magically disappeared… but because I learned how to manage it.

Turns out, I am wildly superstitious. Or ritualistic. Or slightly unhinged. Jury’s still out. I now sit in the same seat every flight. I do the same pre-flight routine in the lounge. I am on level 4,827 of my crossword app, because nothing distracts your brain from catastrophic thinking like desperately trying to remember a five-letter word for “citrus fruit.” I created a system. A routine. A sense of control in a situation where you have absolutely none.

Growth looks weird sometimes.

Somewhere along the way, the crying stopped. The sweating stopped. The obsessive “we’re definitely falling out of the sky” thoughts got quieter. I still have the occasional oh crap flight where turbulence hits and I instinctively grab the arm of the stranger in 10D like we’re about to survive a “Captain Sully” moment together. Nothing builds community faster than shared panic.

But overall? I’ve adjusted. I board planes now like a professional. A calm, seasoned traveler. A woman who definitely doesn’t google “how planes stay in the air” before boarding anymore. Probably. 

The wild part about traveling for work isn’t even the flying. It’s the people. The situations. The adventures you never planned but somehow end up in. Airports are basically reality TV casting locations. You see humanity at its absolute best and absolute weirdest. Business travelers sprinting like Olympic athletes. Families negotiating snacks like hostage situations. People eating tuna at 6 a.m. like it’s a totally normal life choice. Strangers who will tell you their entire life story because you accidentally made eye contact near Gate B12.

Travel humbles you. It stretches you. It drops you into unfamiliar cities and forces you to figure it out. It puts you in uncomfortable situations with purpose. It quietly builds confidence in ways you don’t even notice until one day you realize you’re navigating airports, rental cars, hotel check-ins and strange cities like it’s just… Tuesday. Which is wild considering there was a time I needed sedation and emotional support just to get to cruising altitude.

Some of my favorite life moments have come from saying yes to things that scared me. Trips. Career moves. Adventures. Roller coasters at Dollywood that I absolutely did not sign up for emotionally but somehow survived. Girls trips. New cities. New experiences. Watching my kids grow into adults who are brave and independent and willing to try new things…which feels slightly unfair because now I have to practice what I preached. Turns out you can’t raise brave humans and then refuse to board airplanes. Rude.

Travel has taught me that uncomfortable doesn’t mean wrong. Scary doesn’t mean stop. And growth rarely happens while you’re cozy. Sometimes it happens at 35,000 feet, gripping a crossword puzzle and the armrest like your life depends on it.

And sometimes the wildest part of chasing your dreams… is realizing they come with a boarding pass.

Workplace, where you find your purpose and people.

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I saw a quote recently about workplace friendships, and it stopped me mid-scroll. You know the kind. The kind that makes you sit there for a second and think, dang… that’s actually true. It made me realize how grateful I am for the people I work with.

I’ve been lucky enough to spend the last six years of my career at a company that genuinely believes people matter. Not the poster-on-the-wall version of “people matter,” but the real kind. The kind where people show up day after day, year after year, working hard with the intention to do good and do well. Not just for themselves, but because they care about the work, the team, and the people on the receiving end of it.

And honestly? That’s rare.

My coworkers….my friends…are some of the smartest, brightest, most genuine humans I know. These relationships aren’t forced. No one assigns you a “friend” during onboarding. You choose each other. Slowly, deliberately, over shared deadlines, stressful mornings, long days, and the occasional chaos that comes with real work and real responsibility.

Work friendships are different from any other kind of relationship. You see people in every season. You see them stressed, overwhelmed, frustrated, and exhausted. You see vulnerability and tough days that no highlight reel would ever include. But you also see the wins. The promotions. The pride. The bravery. The quiet moments of joy after something hard finally clicks. You see the whole human.

And not every working relationship is sunshine and laughs. Some are hard. Some are uncomfortable. Some test your patience and your growth in ways you didn’t sign up for. But those relationships matter too. Maybe even more than we realize in the moment.

They teach resilience.
They teach patience.
They teach respect and forgiveness.
They teach you how to lead yourself when it would be easier not to.

Growth rarely happens in comfort. Unfortunately. (Would love to file a complaint about that.)

Over the years, I’ve been incredibly fortunate to build real connections with my teammates. These are the people who give advice when you ask for it… and sometimes when you definitely did not. The group chats that start your day with laughter. The phone calls after long days to unpack the heavy stuff. The dinners, the celebrations, the intentional time spent together outside of work. Those are the moments that stick. Because at some point, the relationship quietly shifts. You stop being “people who work together” and become people who genuinely care about each other’s lives.

More like family than coworkers.

No matter what role I’ve held or what title sat next to my name, I’ve always valued people first. I’ve never believed in looking at others through the lens of hierarchy. Titles don’t make someone more human than the person sitting next to them. Everyone is just a person. A person you get the opportunity to connect with…..if you choose to.

And that part matters. It’s a choice.

I’ve always believed in investing in people. Lifting them up. Reminding them they matter, regardless of their role. Everyone deserves respect, time, opportunity, and grace in the workplace. What they do with that is up to them, but the opportunity should always exist.

All relationships in life matter and deserve respect. But the ones you choose intentionally, the ones you prioritize with purpose, those are the ones that take root in your heart.

And if you’re lucky, you’ll find a few of those at work.