Re-entering once familiar spaces
On Sunday afternoon, my husband dropped me off at Inverness airport to catch a flight to Luton, a flight I once took as a matter of habit, treating it in the same way as most commuters would treat boarding a train or a bus. This was my world. Sometimes I would be in uniform, sometimes not, but I travelled through the airport so often as a passenger or operating crew that going through security and into the small Aspire lounge was a chance to catch up briefly with friends, and my ID was my speedy boarding pass, not to mention always knowing at least one crew member on board each flight.
This journey was different though, and was also a very significant moment for me, as it was the first time I have flown anywhere at all since my last flight home in March 2020, and therefore the first flight I have taken since I stepped away from the job you already know I loved.
It was always going to be a big deal for me but I didn’t appreciate quite how much. I have been to the airport once or twice to collect visiting family members, but I was anxious about how it would feel to fly again knowing that it was no longer my job or something that I was used to doing. So anxious in fact that I didn’t sleep much the night before and I wasn’t really looking forward to it.
Arriving at security, I was greeted by a familiar face who said it was good to see me back flying again. His face fell a little when I explained that I wasn’t, and this was repeated through the security hall. By the time I took my seat in the lounge, I was really emotional as I realised that I hadn’t really appreciated what it would feel like to be making this journey whilst no longer being part of the machinery. I no longer have a pass that gets me to the front of the queue, or access to the system that tells me who the crew will be, which aircraft I will be flying on, or what time it will arrive (the app is good but not always completely accurate!!)
None of these things matter particularly, but they are things I have been used to, and privileges that I have enjoyed, and as I sat waiting for the incoming flight to arrive, I felt a wave of sadness for things that have passed that I hadn’t expected or prepared myself for. It made me realise that I am still grieving for the job I once loved, and it was actually a relief to board the flight and not know any of the operating crew because disappearing behind my headphones and a book were definitely easier than trying to pretend that I wasn’t holding back tears.
I sent a message to a group of amazing friends in a WhatsApp group we set up to support each other all those months ago, saying how I was feeling and was relieved to find that I am not the only one who struggles with all of this sometimes. Their replies of support and love were exactly what I needed and as has so often been the case, these brilliant ladies were literally the wind beneath my wings on my way to London.
Of course, the rest of the trip was an exciting blur of spending time having dinner with my son, visiting his new flat, and the following day surprising our team at the launch of our second well-being bus, before retracing my steps and flying back home again.
It was a whistle stop tour even by my old standards, and taught me some important lessons.
Firstly, I am still sad about not doing the job I loved so much and for so long, and THAT’S OK!!! It really is normal to be sad about something that has passed. It is part of the process of moving on into a new future.
Secondly, being sad is not the same thing as wanting to go back. I have no desire to return to that lifestyle and on the flight home, since the pilots were my friends, I went to say hello, and realised that although the flight deck was like an old and familiar friend, it is somewhere I am happy not to be anymore.
Thirdly, I still really love London – there has always been something about the city that is exciting to me – I also still never want to live there again. I’ve been there and done that and I am very happy to remain an excited visitor
Perhaps more importantly, I learned in a really tangible way that all these months spent in one place have shrunk my comfort zone and my confidence levels far more than I had realised – but this is not permanent and the more I do, the more places I go, and the more I try things on to see how they fit once again, the more that confidence will return. We have all become so used to standing still and I have become very (maybe too) comfortable with that. As we cautiously make a return to some sort of normality, it is good to know that things that were once familiar can be part of our futures too, even if as in my case, we are now on the outside looking in.
This is being called “re-entry syndrome” and as people start to return to work after so many months of working from home or being furloughed it is worth remembering that it won’t be easy for everyone. For some it will be what they have been longing for, but for others it will be difficult, unfamiliar and uncomfortable and it will take time to find a balance again. I am certain we will all find our new balance, but we all need a little time and a lot of kindness.
If you are returning to work and feeling anxious about it, be kind to yourself and remind yourself that it takes time for things to become familiar once more. If you notice someone who seems to be uncomfortable, be kind to them – it may be that a (freshly sanitised) hand of friendship is all that is needed for us all to pull together and rediscover those once familiar spaces.
