Fear of Flying as a Metaphor for Life's Unpredictability in Never Ever After
The Thematic Claim: Fear as a Mirror of Life's Unpredictability in Never Ever After
In Never Ever After, Sue Lynn Tan uses her fear of flying not merely as a personal quirk but as a sustained metaphor for a deeper anxiety about life's unpredictability. The narrator's panic on an airplane becomes a stand-in for her struggle to control a world that refuses to be controlled—career setbacks, romantic uncertainty, and the constant threat of failure. The metaphor culminates in a hard-won lesson: the journey matters more than the destination. By the end of the memoir, she has not conquered her fear so much as learned to live alongside it, accepting that the path she takes—with all its detours and delays—is where her real growth occurs. This analysis traces that metaphor across three pivotal phases of the narrative, examines how characters and symbols reinforce it, and confronts the complexity of a fear that never fully disappears.
Tracing the Metaphor Across the Plot
1. The Flight That Never Happened: Control and Its Collapse
The opening chapter establishes the metaphor with startling clarity. Eight years before the memoir's present, the narrator is a rising associate producer at CMT, thrilled to be assigned to cover the 2004 CMT Music Awards red carpet and later chosen to fly to Las Vegas for the 2005 ACM Awards. Her career is on a fast track, and she feels she has “arrived.” But the prospect of flying triggers a paralyzing fear, intensified by the post-9/11 climate of orange alerts and raised threat levels. On the day of departure, she is a ball of nerves, unable to eat or sleep. Once on the plane, she panics, forces the flight back to the gate, and disembarks in humiliation. Her luggage, however, flies to Vegas without her, and she retrieves it four days later.
This incident is not just a travel mishap; it is a microcosm of her larger struggle. The narrator explicitly frames it as “a metaphor for my entire life.” The plane represents the unpredictable, uncontrollable forces that threaten her carefully constructed plans. Her desperate need to get off the plane mirrors her instinct to flee from any situation where she cannot guarantee the outcome—whether that is a career risk, a romantic commitment, or even a simple social interaction. The luggage, which travels on without her, becomes a symbol of the parts of her life that proceed regardless of her fears. She concludes, “Most people get on a plane to arrive at a destination. I got on a plane to arrive at the undeniable conclusion that the journey is, in fact, the destination.” This line crystallizes the thematic claim: the fear of flying is a fear of the journey itself, and the lesson is to embrace the process rather than fixate on the endpoint.
2. The Aftermath: Fear as a Catalyst for Growth
The metaphor deepens in the chapters that follow the aborted flight. In Chapter 6, the narrator describes the professional consequences: she crawls back to work “with my tail between my legs,” and her bosses, though outwardly understanding, begin to lose faith in her. Within months, she is laid off from CMT, a blow that she directly links to the flight incident. She feels “crushed—physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually.” This period of loss forces her to confront the very unpredictability she tried to avoid. The fear of flying, which she had hoped to outrun, becomes the catalyst for a breakdown that ultimately reshapes her life.
Yet the metaphor evolves. In Chapter 7, she reflects on her anxiety and panic attacks, noting that she has learned to manage them and turn them over to God. She writes, “Fear doesn’t have to be merely your tormentor. You can allow it to become your counselor.” This is a crucial shift: the fear of flying, and the broader fear of life's unpredictability, is no longer something to be eliminated but something to be learned from. She recounts how she later steps onto a stage to speak in front of ten thousand women, “going on nothing but a wing and a prayer.” The aviation imagery is deliberate—she is still metaphorically flying, but now she does so with faith rather than panic.
In Chapter 13, she returns to CMT for a meeting, five years after being fired. She walks through the front doors with confidence, noting how her life has “come full circle.” The fear that once paralyzed her has given her “a strength and a wisdom and a willingness to risk failure.” She also acknowledges that she still battles anxiety in situations like flying, but she is determined to “show up to the fight and not back down.” This phase of the plot shows the metaphor maturing: the fear of flying is not cured, but it is transformed into a source of resilience. The journey—through job loss, emotional breakdown, and eventual reinvention—becomes the destination she never expected.
3. The Later Journey: Embracing the Unpredictable
The metaphor reaches its fullest expression in the later chapters, particularly the New York trip and the epilogue. In Chapter 19, the narrator travels to New York City with her friend Whitney, where she meets Mr. E, a man she has been dating. The trip is fraught with uncertainty: Mr. E asks if she would still marry him, takes her to look at engagement rings, but then says he won't commit until he puts a ring on her finger. They argue, and he eventually tells her he loves her but is confused. The relationship ends in a painful silence that lasts nearly three months. This romantic disappointment echoes the flight incident—she had hoped for a clear destination (marriage), but the journey is messy and unpredictable. Yet she does not flee. She confronts Mr. E, sends an email, and eventually makes peace.
In Chapter 20, she travels to St. Louis and New York as part of Oprah's VIP press corps, meeting Tony Robbins, Deepak Chopra, and ultimately Oprah herself. This is a far cry from the terrified woman who couldn't board a plane. She reflects on how her journey led her to this moment and to finding herself. The epilogue reveals that she signed her first book deal within two months of returning from New York and resigned from her day job to become a full-time writer. She imagines what she would tell her younger self: that difficult times lie ahead, but she will never be far from God. She also notes that she has not returned to Las Vegas, and she leaves her future direction to God. She concludes, “If I ever reach Vegas, my physical luggage may accompany me, but my emotional baggage will remain behind.”
This final statement is the culmination of the metaphor. The fear of flying, which once represented her inability to cope with unpredictability, has been reframed. She no longer needs to reach a specific destination—Vegas, marriage, a stable career—to feel complete. The journey itself, with all its detours and disappointments, has taught her that the destination is not a place but a state of being. The emotional baggage she once carried—the need for control, the fear of failure—is left behind, even as her physical luggage might one day travel with her.
Character and Symbol Connections
The metaphor is reinforced through the characters who populate the narrator's journey. Matt Wilson, her high school sweetheart, enlists in the Marines and leaves for five years, including deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan. His departure is a literal flight into unpredictability, and the narrator's long-distance love is marked by anxiety and panic attacks. She experiences her first panic attack during this period, and the relationship ultimately ends. Matt's later diagnosis of spinal cancer, which she supports him through, underscores the theme that life's trajectory is never guaranteed. Similarly, Mr. E embodies romantic uncertainty—his indecision about commitment mirrors the narrator's own fear of the unknown. The fairy-tale imagery throughout the book, from the opening line about an imperfect fairy tale to the Cinderella-like ball gown of Loretta Lynn, contrasts the narrator's messy reality with the neat endings of fairy tales, reinforcing the idea that real life does not follow a script.
The symbols of flight and airplanes and luggage and baggage are central to the metaphor. The airplane is the vehicle of unpredictability, while the luggage represents the emotional weight the narrator carries. Her luggage's journey to Vegas without her is a poignant image: the parts of her life that she cannot control proceed on their own, while she remains grounded. The dance symbol, introduced in Chapter 8, offers a counterpoint. Dancing opens her up to “the magic and joy and possibilities of life again,” suggesting that embracing movement—even without a fixed destination—can be liberating. The contrast between the rigid fear of flying and the fluid joy of dancing highlights the narrator's growth.
Complexity and Contradiction
The metaphor is not without its contradictions. The narrator never fully overcomes her fear of flying; she admits in Chapter 13 that she still battles anxiety in situations like flying. Yet she also learns to manage it, turning it over to God and using it as a source of strength. This is not a simple triumph-over-adversity narrative. The fear remains, but it no longer controls her. Similarly, the metaphor of the journey as destination is complicated by the fact that the narrator does eventually achieve tangible destinations—a book deal, a public platform, a sense of self. She does not reject destinations entirely; rather, she redefines them. The journey is not a rejection of goals but a recognition that the process of getting there is where meaning resides.
Another contradiction lies in the narrator's relationship with control. She is a self-described “worrier and a control freak,” and her fear of flying is rooted in a desire to control outcomes. Yet the metaphor teaches her that control is an illusion. The luggage that flies without her, the career that collapses, the romance that fails—all are beyond her control. Her eventual acceptance of this unpredictability is not resignation but a form of freedom. She learns to trust God's plan, as she repeatedly states, and to let go of the need to micromanage her life. This is a nuanced resolution: the fear of flying is not conquered but integrated into a larger faith.
Study Questions and Answers
1. How does the narrator's fear of flying function as a metaphor for her broader anxiety about life's unpredictability?
The fear of flying represents her inability to control outcomes. Just as she cannot control the plane's trajectory, she cannot control career success, romantic commitment, or personal safety. The panic attack on the plane mirrors her instinct to flee from any situation where the outcome is uncertain. The metaphor is explicit when she says the incident is “a metaphor for my entire life,” and it recurs throughout the memoir as she faces job loss, relationship failures, and public speaking.
2. Trace the evolution of the metaphor across three distinct parts of the plot.
In Chapter 1, the aborted flight to Vegas establishes the metaphor: her luggage travels without her, and she concludes that the journey is the destination. In Chapters 6–7, the aftermath of the flight leads to job loss and a breakdown, but she learns to manage her anxiety and reframe fear as a counselor. In Chapters 19–20 and the epilogue, she faces romantic uncertainty and a career reinvention, ultimately embracing the journey and leaving her emotional baggage behind.
3. How do the characters of Matt Wilson and Mr. E reinforce the theme of unpredictability?
Matt's military departure and eventual cancer diagnosis illustrate that life's path is never guaranteed. Mr. E's indecision about commitment mirrors the narrator's own fear of the unknown, forcing her to confront the possibility that love may not follow a predictable script. Both relationships end without the expected destination, teaching her that the journey—the growth, the lessons, the self-discovery—is what matters.
4. What role do the symbols of luggage and dance play in the metaphor?
Luggage represents the emotional baggage the narrator carries—her need for control, her fear of failure. Her luggage's journey to Vegas without her symbolizes the parts of her life that proceed regardless of her fears. Dance, by contrast, represents joyful movement without a fixed destination, offering a counterpoint to the rigid fear of flying. Dancing opens her to possibility and helps her reclaim her sense of self.
5. Does the narrator ever fully overcome her fear of flying? How does this complexity affect the theme?
No, she does not. She admits in Chapter 13 that she still battles anxiety in situations like flying. This complexity is central to the theme: the fear is not eliminated but managed. The metaphor teaches that unpredictability cannot be conquered, only accepted. By learning to live with her fear and trust in God's plan, she transforms it from a tormentor into a counselor, proving that the journey—with all its imperfections—is the destination.