I was flying home after a spiritual gathering. I got a seat in the second row of the plane, and as soon as I sat down, I had this strange feeling — like the universe had placed me there for a reason. At first, I thought maybe I’d get some kind of small “reward” — like having the whole row to myself so I could stretch out and nap. But as the last passengers boarded and filled the empty seats next to me, I realized that wasn’t it.
In the first row, a man and his partner (maybe wife, maybe girlfriend) asked the flight attendants if they could use the restroom before takeoff. They were told yes, but to wait until everyone boarded. While standing and waiting, they noticed empty seats in the front row and asked if they could sit there together (it seemed they had separate assigned seats). The flight attendant said those seats cost an extra €20 — and they agreed to purchase them.
From the way the man spoke, he came across as intelligent and respectful. But once he sat down and glanced into the cockpit, he turned to the flight attendants and said, aloud and with a tone of surprise:
“Is the pilot today a woman?”
(I expected a compliment to follow… but what he said next changed everything.)
“Is that even safe?”
A wave of shock hit me. I saw one of the flight attendants flinch slightly and respond:
“She’s very experienced and a great pilot.”
Then he asked:
“Very experienced? How old is she? She looks really young… maybe 40?”
At that point, I wanted to yell. But instead, I just let out a snort and shook my head in that universal “no” gesture. The man next to me noticed and asked what the other guy had said — I shared, and was met with a supportive look.
After that conversation ended, the same flight attendant had to perform the usual safety demonstration. Normally, after years of flying, I barely notice it. But this time I watched closely. Her body moved through the motions, but her face showed pain — the kind that sits behind the eyes when you want to cry but won’t let yourself.
Once the plane took off, I eventually fell asleep. I woke up about an hour later with a very clear message in my heart — something I had to write to the pilot. Luckily, I had brought a pen. I found a small scrap of paper that wasn’t already covered in song lyrics and started writing.
The message was originally in English, and here’s what it said:
Hi,
I wanted to express how sorry I am that you have to hear ignorant, misogynistic comments from men just for choosing to become a pilot.
I truly believe that by following your inspiration, you’re uplifting and inspiring not only women but especially young girls who get to experience a flight with you.
Some fragile male egos might feel threatened by that — but it’s an important part of the shift happening collectively, as we move toward more balance after a long history of patriarchy.
On behalf of all the girls in this world,
Thank you.
As the plane began its descent, I called over the same flight attendant — the one I could tell had been hurt by what happened. I handed her the note and said:
“This isn’t trash. It’s a message — for you and for the pilot. Please read it, and if you feel it’s right, pass it on to her too.”
She thanked me, read it, smiled warmly, and said she absolutely would. Then she stepped into the crew space, drew the little curtain, and called over the two other flight attendants to read it together. I saw them pointing toward the man from earlier — explaining the context, I imagine. I got warm smiles from both of the other flight attendants as well.
But then another feeling came up — that maybe I needed to say something to that man too. My first thoughts weren’t so nice, honestly. But then I remembered a line from a song by one of my teachers:
“Now is your chance to turn your poison into pearls.”
I realized I wanted to set a boundary — but with love.
When the plane landed, I gathered my things. While waiting for the doors to open, I watched the man collect his belongings. Once he was standing calmly, I found the courage and said:
“Right now, you have a chance to reflect and grow.
The fact that a woman is piloting this flight means that throughout her education and career, she’s likely had to constantly outperform her male colleagues to prove herself.
And that’s because of men she encountered along the way — teachers or coworkers — who see women the way you did today.
I truly hope you think about your attitude toward women, and if you ever have a daughter, that you won’t belittle her the way you tried to belittle today’s pilot.”
He replied:
“You probably didn’t hear the end of the conversation. I actually said later that it might even be safer to fly with a woman. It was just a joke. I cleared it up with the flight attendants.”
I answered:
“You’re right — I didn’t hear that part. But in that case, your joke wasn’t funny. I saw how they reacted. And I didn’t find it funny either.”
Again, I saw that same subtle, supportive smile from the man who had been sitting beside me. And as the doors opened, the other man stepped aside and gestured for me to leave the plane ahead of him.
Later that day, I happened to see a post in the Female Quotient Facebook group with this stat:
“Women make up less than 20% of all aviation professionals. Only 5% of pilots are women, and only about 6% of airline CEOs are female.”
Some people later criticized this story — saying it sounded made up. (Honestly, a lot of things that happen in my life would sound more far-fetched than this 😄). Others said I sounded like I thought I was better than everyone else in the story.
I want to be clear: that’s not how I see it at all.
That day, I just felt deeply connected to my soul — and inspired. On most days, I wouldn’t even have the courage to hand a flight attendant a note, let alone speak up to a stranger like that.
And I don’t expect everyone to always speak up or take a stand. For me personally, those two small acts — writing the note and saying those words — took a lot of emotional energy. (I actually cried while writing it.)
But this story, for me, was about moving through fear.
And doing that helped me feel just a little stronger.
And to any woman reading this, I want to say:
Don’t clip your wings just because of cowardly comments from men.