Hi, I’m Erica—the other half of Youngish Nomads.

Long before we ever started this blog, John and I used to dream about traveling the world together. We’d talk about all the places we’d go someday. The only problem was…we were broke, quickly became parents, and I absolutely hate flying.

To me, traveling overseas always felt like this romantic idea that belonged to someone else’s life, not mine. The truth is, I’ve actually had opportunities to travel internationally before, but I was always too scared to take them. My fear of flying was simply bigger than my desire to go.

The funny thing is, I wasn’t always afraid to fly.

When I was a kid, I flew to Florida every summer to visit my dad. Flying was just something we did. Then, somewhere along the way, something changed. One summer I came home and announced to my family that I wasn’t flying anymore—I wanted to take road trips instead. Looking back, that’s really when the anxiety started creeping in.

After that, I still flew occasionally for family vacations, but each flight became harder than the last. Even though every single flight ended safely, my anxiety only seemed to grow. Fear isn’t always logical like that.

When John and I finally took our first flight together after we were married, he knew I was nervous. What he didn’t realize was just how intense my fear really was. Every time we fly, he patiently talks me through it, reminding me that we’re safe and that everything is going to be okay. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him.

Our last flight before this trip was probably my hardest yet. I spent weeks obsessing over plane crashes and convincing myself that every anxious thought was somehow a warning. I even caught myself thinking that there were probably people on planes that had crashed who were also afraid to fly but talked themselves into getting on anyway. Anxiety has a way of making even irrational thoughts feel believable.

I did get on the plane, but there were plenty of tears…and, if I’m being honest, a little liquid courage.

Then our daughter picked Ireland.

When our daughter started her senior year of high school, John and I knew we wanted to give her a graduation trip and let her choose the destination. She spent weeks trying to decide.

Then she picked…Ireland.

My first thought was, “Ireland? Amazing!”

My second thought was, “Wait…how exactly are we getting there?”

Spoiler alert: not by boat.

After that, I realized something had to change. A few months earlier, we had flown to Seattle, and I had been a complete emotional mess. I didn’t want my fear to keep deciding what our family could or couldn’t experience.

So I started working on it.

I began seeing a therapist—not just about my fear of flying, but about my anxiety in general. I started taking daily anxiety medication, and I worked hard to reframe the way I think about flying. Instead of seeing it as this huge, terrifying risk, I tried to remember that it’s something pilots, flight attendants, and millions of people do safely every single day.

One thing that unexpectedly helped was watching YouTube videos and TikToks from people documenting their travels. It may sound silly, but seeing ordinary people flying all over the world every day made it feel…normal. It reminded me that people do this successfully all the time.

I also had to change the way I viewed delays. Instead of seeing them as a sign that maybe I shouldn’t be flying, I started seeing them as proof that the system values safety. Planes don’t leave until it’s safe to do so, and that’s actually reassuring.

Am I suddenly fearless?

Not even close.

Even with therapy, medication, and a lot of work on my mindset, I’m still nervous. I’ll probably still grip the armrests during takeoff, and John will probably still have to remind me to breathe.

But I’ve realized something important.

Courage isn’t the absence of fear.

Sometimes courage is simply deciding that something else matters more than your fear.

For me, that’s making memories with my family. It’s watching my daughter experience another country. It’s exploring places I’ve only ever seen in pictures. It’s proving to myself that the world isn’t as far away as I’ve convinced myself it is.

So I’m doing it scared.

I’m getting on the plane. I’m flying across the Atlantic. I’m going to Ireland with the people I love most, and I know the memories we’ll make will be worth every anxious moment it takes to get there.

My hope is that when I come home, I won’t just have amazing stories from Ireland. I hope I’ll also come home believing that the world is a little smaller, a little more accessible, and that fear doesn’t get to make all of my decisions anymore.

And, of course, I can’t wait to come back and tell you all about it.