Former Dunedin student Stacey Fletcher admits that as she gets older, she gets more nervous.
I have been thinking a lot lately about fears and phobias. It all came about when I booked a trip to India, and the countdown began for the inevitable plane ride over there. Most people comment on how excited I must be for the journey, and how I must be counting down the days until I leave.
And they are right; I am excited about being in India. How could I not be? After almost a year, I will be reunited with my parents and siblings (and of course my little dog), having a great time. They are also right that I am counting down the days until I leave, however not quite for the reason they would expect.
If I were totally honest about my feelings towards the trip, it would be fair to say that quite a bit of proper excitement is suppressed by the fact I am mildly freaking out about the idea of flying long-haul alone. Which, when I think about it, is quite a hassle really given that most years I have to do it at least twice.
Now I'm not saying I have a true fear of flying - there are no panic attacks or hyperventilating, and you wouldn't catch me re-enacting the plane scene from Bridesmaids where she gets on the loud speaker warning everybody of a colonial woman on the wing (shameless promotion of the movie, but it is truly a must-see), but there are definitely a few nerves in the pit of my stomach when I think about doing it alone.
This brings me to the central point of this column. I never used to be anxious when it came to flying. It seems to be something that has crept up on me during the past few years. When I was younger I loved it, because all I focused on was the plane food and movies, which, admittedly I still really look forward to, as you never know what you're going to get and there are always a few pleasant surprises.
Then I realised this nervous feeling about flying that has reared its head as I have reached my 20s, probably falls into the same boat as all of the other things that wouldn't have fazed me as a child, but now that I'm old enough to appreciate the risks I'm much more apprehensive about them. For example, when I was about 12 or 13, I took up surfing for a summer.
I lived right by the beach, and so pretty much did it every single day for the six weeks between school finishing and starting again. I actually became semi-competent as well, because I wasn't scared of falling off, or nosediving into the sand.
The only time I've been surfing recently I spent it worrying I was going to knock myself out on my board or knock my teeth out on the ocean floor. There would be a number of things we could all identify that didn't scare us when we were younger, but that we are now more hesitant to commit to. It's understandable
we become more cautious as we grow older, as we no longer have that same blissful ignorance we had as a child. Although, in saying that, I know a few people for whom retaining their ignorance has not been a problem. My next column will be written from India, so I will be sure to update you about the flight and any nervous performances that may ensue.
While I say my fear hasn't reached the level of stealing the loudspeaker and informing the plane of a Colonial woman churning butter on the wing, I really can't make any promises.
