*Not all flight attendants or individuals in aviation experience this in aviation. A�This is simply the perspective of one.*
I wanted to prove them wrong in dating. A�I wanted to show them that I could have a happy and healthy relationship- that I was the exception to a rule that says “relationships struggle and dating is impossible in this industry.” A�I thought ignorantly that I was above the laws of science that follow that relationships and love develop through quality time and consistent presence. A�I believed thatA�any dating relationship toA�which IA�was a part ofA�could survive the constantly revolving door of airplanes, airports, suitcases, and hotels. A�This becauseA�I was part of it. A�This was because I was different. A�This because nothing is impossible, right?
Nothing except dating in my flight attendant life.
Mix an impossible schedule with impossible ambition. A�Add a few drops of wanderlust, a couple of tablespoons of commuting, and there youA�have an all-over-the-map, jet-lagged girl that no one, not even myself, can keep up with.
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“But I thought…”
“Yeah- that was yesterday.”
And to the question of, “When will you be back?”- I’ve stopped promising as it seems I can never keep my word.
I doesn’t matter if I love you.
It doesn’t matter if you love me.
It doesn’t matter because my life is too much for you and more importantly, it’s too much for me. A�Three months ago, I thought that I wanted a relationship. A�I told people I wanted to settle and that I was ready for settled. A�I don’t think anyone believed me except for me. A�I was being sincere, but often, I don’t understand myself. A�I’m not ready. A�I don’t know what settled or what normal means. A�What I know is going. A�I know two days here, one day there, meeting and leaving guy after guy after guy. A�I have brushed away, dodged, and attempted toA�disassemble the stereotype that flight attendants have boyfriends in every city, and really, all that I have done this year is add evidence upon evidence that boyfriend is as easy for a flight attendant as said and done.
Love is just as susceptible to reality is as a sailboat is susceptibleA�to the direction of the wind. A�My reality is a difficult one to be part of. A�I’ve stopped apologizing for it. A�I’ve stopped minimizing the factsA�around my lifestyle and howA�someone will fit into it. A�Let’s just stop things before they start I’ll say. A�It’s better for both of us. A�My guard is up. A�I’ll giggle and bat my eyes to no end, because of course I enjoy the attention. A�I’m human, but through every laugh, kiss, and cuddleA�goodbye, my heart has been slowly chipped away, exhausted by the surface level connections.
It could be more. A�It always could be more. A�It’s that thing of time and of ‘being’. A�Time is always given to me in the increments of 24, 32, and 48hrs, stopped when the next flight starts. A�Time is not on my side and probably won’t be as long as I do this.
There was once a time in my flight attendant career when the people that I met mattered more. A�When I believed that I would be back soon and that distance had no power. A�Now, my skepticism seeps through, so much so, that I am called out on it. A�I’ve beenA�questioned as to where all of the skepticism cameA�from. A�Well, from the fact that I cannot keep falling for moments in my life cause it hurts falling continuously, and eventually, if you’re smart one learns to catch themselves. A�These are moments. A�At the next destination, I will still need the smile, still must maintain the image, and still must create new connections. A�I must let go of the place which I left and the person that I left and be completely in the place that I am. A�It’s just the way it is. A�It’s not a perfect plan and I don’t think it works very well. A�I don’t know a better way.
There is no middle ground with my flight attendant life. A� I’m living this to the extreme, not because it is required, but because of how I have chosen it. A�Not all flight attendant jobs require 10-15 day trips. A�Not all flight attendants choose to commute, or want to travel in their free time, or write a blog and freelance on the side. A�I’m tired. A�I’m torn. A�I’m heartbroken over loves that I have let go, and saddened over the little shell that has evolved to protect my vulnerable and sensitive heart.
I’m not looking for a hookup, a relationship, or love. A�Or maybe, I am looking for love. A�The problem is that this flight attendant life has me completely confused over whatA�love actually is-
WhatA�I am not confused over is the guilt that I feel for not being reliable. A�Guilt that I hold for not being available, and guilt that taunts for those thatA�I have categorized as ‘not caring.’ A�It’s a defense. A�When you meet so many people everyday, the only way to survive is by pretending to forget.