I was chosen for a public speaking competition in a Model United Nations (MUN) in a foreign country to represent my school. However, the catch was that I was going alone, and by alone, I mean flying alone and staying at a hotel all by myself.

It was going to be simply more than just a flight – it would be a rite of passage, a sense of freedom and an exhilarating dive into the unknown. The thought of traveling alone for the first time hit me like turbulence as I sat in the departure lounge, holding onto my boarding pass. Lost deep in my thoughts, I did not even realise how I was grinning from ear to ear. This was my chance to show that I could fly and see the world by myself.

I started by practicing my responses to queries the airline employees could ask at the check-in desk. With a mixture of fear and confidence, I gave my passport.

“Are you flying alone,” asked a lady with a warm, comfortable smile in a black buttoned-down shirt.

“Yes,” I replied with a sense of confidence and a little pride in the fact that I was old enough to do so.

“Aisle seat or window?” she inquired. I paused as I became acutely aware of how crucial this choice was. It had to be a window seat, after all, if I was going to travel by myself, why not live it to the best!

“Window seat, please,” I replied without hesitation.

Passing through the security was a different experience though. I felt very vulnerable when I had to take off my belt, jewellery, shoes and anything that beeped. Silently hoping I hadn’t packed anything that could rouse some suspicion, I held my breath as my luggage passed through the scanner. It felt like a win when the green light blinked, indicating that I was free to leave.

It seemed surreal to board the aircraft. A sensory overload was created by the roar of engines, the scent of jet fuel and the barrage of announcements. Families, couples and seasoned tourists, who appeared being able to do this in their sleep, were all smiling as I found my seat. And then there was me, a teenager attempting to appear composed, but secretly teeming with anxiety and anticipation.

It was a mystical take-off. My pulse pounded in time with the plane’s engines as it thundered down the runway. I had a strange mixture of wonder and disinterest when we took off. The tumult of the earth below gave way to a calm scene of clouds and an unending sky. The magnitude of what I was doing suddenly hit me. I was setting off on a voyage of self-discovery rather than merely going somewhere.

It was freeing to be alone at 35,000 feet. No one was there to warn me not to order soda or to remind me to belt up. I felt empowered because I was free to make decisions, no matter how little. During the journey, I alternated between looking out the window and visualising the lives of the other travellers around me.

The landing evoked conflicting feelings. I experienced a surge of pride as the jet descended, along with a twinge of melancholy that the journey was done. I had succeeded. I became aware that I had changed as soon as I got off the aircraft; I felt more self-assured, more competent and a bit less terrified of what the outside world would bring.

It was more than just traveling from one country to another when flying alone. It was about embracing uncertainty, developing self-confidence and discovering joy in the process. As a teenager, I had soared to the top and landed as someone who had a bit more faith in their capacity to handle life’s challenges. I was eagerly awaiting the next flight.

Published in Dawn, Young World, December 21st, 2024