Okay guys. So my first flight at school didn’t go how I planned/hoped it would. The flight itself was fine, my instructor showed me how to take off and then we did some stalls in the practice area, flew around for a bit and then came back to the airport. My instructor did the landing, and right after touch down was suddenly like “your controls”…
I was like… no! The plane was moving too fast and I didn’t trust that I knew what I was doing, so I was like umm no can you keep controls and he was like no you’ll be
fine! .. I was not fine. The right rudder pedal was stuck on something so the plane drifted off the runway to the left (because of a wonderful thing called left-turning tendency, which I learnt then is very real), and then 610 FT hit a sign and there was a massive dent in the wing.
I. WAS. MORTIFIED.
It actually was fine, like this one girl literally crashed a whole plane and it’s still sitting in the parking lot because it was like, damaged beyond repair so a dented wing really isn’t the end of the world but look at this:
I mean, the runway sign was fine and everyone was mainly super amused by it, but for my first flight to have ended with a collision… It was literally the worst thing EVER. I went home and cried on the phone to my mum for like, an hour, and started re-questioning whether I should just quit now and go home (three weeks away from home was definitely a factor here). I. was. devastated. And now, as the only girl in my class, I had just become the girl who crashed the plane. I had made a name for myself that let down the entire female race. (Definitely dramatic, but that’s how it felt).
The next day, I go into school to discover I had a new instructor (who turned out to be my favourite instructor and I actually still have so much love and respect for him… even though he left me to go be a real pilot in the real world 😂😂😂😂 obviously super proud and pleased for him too though 🙊). What happened to my first instructor I hear you ask? HE WAS FIRED. Why not just pour salt into my open wounds?! That would probably be less painful an experience for me. I felt so completely terrible about that, I just wanted the whole world to swallow me up and disappear me so I didn’t have to deal with this.
But, obviously, My mum managed to calm me down and get a word or two in between sobs, and I stuck with it. Erick, my new instructor, was absolutely just the best and I learned so much from him… everything, basically. So it turned out to be kind of lucky because if I hadn’t contributed to my first instructor getting fired I wouldn’t have got Erick as an instructor at all!
Now I’m a pilot, and everything seems completely worth it now. All of that doubt and questioning and uncertainty all just seems so wort it, because here I am! A licensed pilot properly living the dream.