🌩️ When the Storm Finds You: What Fear Teaches Us About Control

“Fear is a story we tell ourselves.” Cheryl Strayed

I’ve just returned from a sunshine break in Tenerife with my best friend, except the sunshine didn’t get the memo. We arrived to the worst storms the island had seen in a decade. Waves were smashing against the harbour walls with a force you could feel in your chest. Beaches were closed. The air was wild. And so, we did what we do best: walked, talked, and ducked into cafés whenever the sky became black and opened up again

A few days later, the weather eased and we ventured onto a rocky coastal path. It was safe, well used, but in places the drop to the sea was… let’s say “challenging.” My friend was terrified, yet she kept going. When we reached the solid concrete path, she turned to me and said the fatal words:

“Don’t you ever get frightened?”

I laughed and said, “Not really.”

And then the universe said, “Hold my drink.”

That night, the thunderstorm arrived. Not a gentle rumble but a full body, house shaking, window rattling storm. Lightning flashed and the thunder followed instantly, or with half a second’s gap at most. I found myself doing that childhood thing of counting the seconds to work out how close it was… except it was right there. The apartment vibrated with every crack.

And I’ll be honest: I got scared.
There was nothing I could do. No control. No escape. Just me, the storm, and my nervous system doing its best to convince me I was in danger even though I was safe indoors. So I talked to my brain, reminded myself I was safe, and waited it out.

On the flight home, I reflected on all the clients I’ve helped who fear flying. The fear is rarely about the plane itself. It’s about:

• the waiting
• the being strapped in
• the lack of control
• the fear of “losing it” in front of strangers