Drops, bumps, landings, turbulence, clouds, they all scared the crap out of me. And I am not exaggerating. Even after a hundred hours I was still afraid of flying. I'm not sure exactly why I stuck with it. I think it was both the challenge and the beauty. Thirty years, and a thousand hours later, the real fear only comes when things, like severe turbulence, happen.
To be clear, I am still a little anxious every time I climb into my plane. I believe this is healthy.
Sometimes I can feel fear trying to creep into my mind. Now, I am able to analyze whatever aspect of the fear is concerning me. Then I make a conscious plan to deal with it. Sometimes the plan is, "The hell with it, I'm not flying today." Other times I may just change my minimums for that day. Sometimes I realize that I am capable of dealing with that particular issue when it comes up, and I go fly. This is what happens most of the time nowadays.
I am still very uncomfortable flying in "no good landing out option" conditions (over water, heavily forested areas, etc). I think this starts from the fact that where I live there has always been reasonable landing out options.
A few months ago, on a bucket list trip, I found myself flying over miles and miles of Louisiana swamp. The thought that even if I survived the landing, the chances of me surviving in those conditions was marginal. I must have matured along the way because the realization came to me that there was absolutely nothing I could do about this at the time. Strangely, that single thought allowed me to stop thinking about it and just enjoy the incredible beauty. I could not have done this even a few years ago.
My takeaway is that experience, and time, can help quell flying fears. The excitement, challenge, and beauty of flying is worth the effort.
