Can I tell you a frank secret? Because you are, after all, my people…
I got up this morning and he was gone. I reached for him, but he wasn’t there, and my heart did a sad little flip.
Sooooo I checked my messages to cheer me up. Big mistake. The first one I received this morning was from an angry man harshly criticizing me for running this site and for being a pilot wife. ‘I should be ashamed of myself,’ or so he boldly declared. He is not even in the aviation field—not even remotely connected—but he felt entitled to his bitter words and unjustifiable anger toward a complete stranger. You know, toward me.
I grumpily slammed down my phone, crawled out of bed, opened the door, and was met by absolute chaos. I glared around at all the piles of dirty laundry, unwashed dishes, and enough dust bunnies to start a new farm piled around after an exhaustingly busy weekend.
And yeah, friends, I felt tired…and a
little lot discouraged.
For a fleeting moment, I thought to myself that maybe, just maybe, I’m not the right one to do this for you—to be your encourager. Because today? I didn’t really want to be a pilot’s wife. I wanted my husband home in my arms, not jaunting around the country. I wanted mean people to stop saying mean things for the sake of meanness. And I wanted to not be forever and a day (or six) behind on life.
But then I realized that makes me the perfect person to do this for you—to be your encourager. Because I get it. This is #thepilotwifelife. It’s messy. Very! I have learned how to have lots of great days, but sometimes it’s still hard. Sometimes ‘those days’ creep in under the radar. I am, without a doubt, an imperfect, messed up, flaming hot mess.
And that makes me perfect for this, because I am real. I am perfect chaos.
I stopped and took a deep breath and realized something very important. Days like today help me help you better because my words? They’re not just empty words from an outside person but rather words of empathy from someone who has been there, done that. Recently. Like…right now, as we speak.
That gives me new perspective and makes me thankful for today. It makes me cherish the loneliness, the frustration, the real…because I know that it makes me a better advocate for you. It gives me real perspective. It helps me identify with you and your ‘those days.’
It makes me a real pilot’s wife. I love, love, love being a pilot’s wife and I love, love, love being able to encourage you. Because my chaos—your chaos—is perfectly beautiful.
I am convinced that we need this community. We need to know it’s okay to have ‘those’ days. We need to be able to lean on one another for encouragement and love and advice.
And we need to remind one another to keep F.L.Y.ing even when it’s hard or we don’t feel like it.
So I’m still here. And I still love you, aviation family. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. Well…except maybe to the grocery store because my kids are, apparently, not too keen on a(nother) dinner of lettuce and ketchup.
I love you, aviation family.
Angelia (a fellow pilot wife)