I want to write you a blog about life— four months, twenty six days, and twelve hours—amidst my private aviation world, but what I want to say and what is safe to say are at odds. It’s a lesson to this billionaire jet lifestyle; a land that demands secrecy, exclusivity, and privacy. Private aviation feels so much smaller than the commercial airline industry, and for those adventuring there, we all know how little that world proves to be. You are in London and you run into crew that you worked with, twenty-five years prior, at a now defunct airline. You come to discover that the cute first officer who works for a different airline— who you have been quietly seeing in New York— has also been quietly seeing a flight attendant training classmate in San Francisco. Don’t berate yourself for making the mistake of dating a pilot, because it’s not a mistake. Heartbreak and disappointment act as a learning opportunity, and next time, you will probably step forward with a little more caution, a bit more patience, and a lot more strength. My advice is, read the warning label and don’t blame someone else for breaking your own heart.
I know this, because I break mine— often. I go on dates with people I have no business to be dating. I’m told I need to be kept a secret, because “it looks bad.” This is bullshit, because what I want is to have someone proud that I’m by their side. So, what do I do? Go out with him again. Convenience. Loneliness. Boredom. Attraction. Like I said, we break hearts. There’s a point when everyone knows something is not a good idea, and that is the point when something different needs to be done. I just like to procrastinate…
I wonder if it was never my global lifestyle that was the reason my longest running relationship was the length of a summer fling. Maybe dating difficulties were always “just me” and not my job. Maybe, it’s a lot things. I should be spending more time at the kite beach instead the airport. No more pilots. Kite boyfriends approved. I need a job on a fancy private jet; not a pilot boyfriend. Unless you have flight benefits, and technically, that means we don’t work in the same world. Let’s negotiate those flight benefits.
I’m in a really big learning opportunity; a large one which encompasses my new career as a corporate flight attendant as well as my romantic relationships. I’m juggling the art of maintaining my motivation to continue to blog and work on a minimum wage salary. I’m juggling blending my professional and private life. I’m juggling…and at least I know how to juggle sometimes.
A few weeks ago, at a very low point, I was gifted a very big high. I got a flight. I got a flight, not from the big private aviation company, because they tell me, “You’re not ready,” but from somewhere else. This wasn’t exactly my first flight, but it was the first one that I can mention. Remember those secrets I talked about? Someone requested me, and you know how good it feels to be requested by someone? It feels especially good when it’s on a big jet and you have been told, “You’re new, so you’ll only get G200 trips.” It feels pretty nice to be wanted.
The company may still not let me fly, but the day after I got back from the trip, someone else called me for a four-day, and I have another possible flight a few weeks out. This dynamic like a romantic relationship. When you take a partner for granted too long, they will eventually go somewhere else. They will discover they are wanted somewhere else, by someone else. Be careful of the danger of taking anything or anyone for granted.
I’m at one of the best, largest, most renowned private companies in existence, but there’s something about being wanted. I risked going into this industry, and I don’t know why I would change my strategy now. Besides, I’m not doing this flight attendant thing, to be only a flight attendant. I’m doing this flight attendant thing to be a writer. To be the best writer, I need adventure; and for me, adventure is in the sky.
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