We all know flying isn’t easy these days. But flying as a minor? By yourself? When you’re neurodivergent? It makes Snakes on a Plane seem like a stroll in the park. So imagine my anxiety last year when Sage, my autistic 15-year-old daughter, needed to fly by herself from school in Utah to our home in California during the holidays.
Every autistic person is impacted differently by autism; Sage is no exception. Most of the time she experiences sensory issues that make it difficult for her when she is in noisy or crowded places, in tight quarters with lots of other people, and in warm locations that make her sweat.
She insisted she’d be “chill.” After all, her dad (me!) is a freelance family-travel writer and she’s been flying her whole life. I, on the other hand, was skeptical. I’ve seen firsthand how difficult it can be for members of the neurodivergent community to find accommodations in modern society, and I was worried how she’d weather potential delays, possible snafus, and who knows what else.
I also was concerned about logistics. Sage is too old to qualify for—or accept—enrollment in the airlines’ unaccompanied minor programs. Most of these programs are for kids ages 5–12, and they pair your kiddo with chaperones at either end of the journey but not for the flight itself.
At the same time, I thought Sage was still pretty young to be asked to endure security, navigate an airport, potentially buy some snacks, follow boarding protocols, and get situated on the plane—all by herself.
I was wrong.
As she predicted, she did great—so great that after that initial round trip, she has taken three others. Her success calmed my nerves; now when she flies alone I’m almost as “chill” as she is. In honor of Autism Acceptance Month, I sat down with her recently to discuss her experiences flying solo.
When you first heard you were going to have to fly home alone, what went through your mind?
I was excited, not only to go home but also because you trusted me to fly alone. I have flown enough to know that security is not the best experience, but I was like, whatever. It was fast most times because I got there early.
What was your strategy for packing?
I didn’t make a list, but I packed early enough that I had a chance to go over my stuff a few times. On the morning of the flight, I admit I did keep asking myself, “Did I miss something? Did I miss something?” But I didn’t.
OK, the morning of the flight. What emotions were you experiencing and how did those feel in your body?
For that first flight, I definitely had a feeling in my stomach. But it was more excitement than anxiety. I was like, “Let’s go!” Then on the plane I got a tiny bit anxious. There’s always that one little thought, ‘What if the plane crashes, and the last thing I ever see is whatever stupid movie I’m watching?’ The way I stopped thinking about that was by turning on a movie. The flight from Salt Lake City to San Francisco is only like 90 minutes.
How did the flight go?
There was a woman next to me who was really possessive of the armrest. I kept putting my arm on it, and she kept getting really mad at me. At one point, she was like, ‘Can you stop doing that?’ I was like, ‘Yes, please calm down.’ Later in the flight I accidentally touched the armrest again, and she started going off on me again. Honestly looking back, I was the one who was calm. She was the one who had issues. If you fly [on] a plane you have to share the armrest. No one person owns them. Lady, if you sat next to me on that flight and you’re reading this, know that I didn’t like how you kicked me off the armrest.
To what extent did you have to react to other unexpected things?
On my second or third flight, we were delayed three hours on the tarmac. We were in the plane, we had backed away from the gate, but we couldn’t go anywhere. That one got to me. I felt a little claustrophobic, but mostly I was annoyed because it just meant more time until I could get home. During the delay I watched a movie, tried to sleep, and played Solitaire on my phone.
I know you are particular about snacks. What did you eat or drink?
I didn’t eat anything from the cart, that’s for sure. The only options were those Biscoff cookies and Doritos. I don’t like either of those. I had soda on one of the flights, but I only drank a few sips because I was really paranoid that I was going to spill it all over me and the people next to me.
How did you feel about using the airplane bathrooms?
I didn’t have to. The flights are short, and I know airplane bathrooms are notoriously nasty, so I avoided them. Thankfully at the Salt Lake City airport, there’s a bathroom right by the gates I always fly out of. I usually go right before we fly, and have no problem holding it until I get home.
To what extent do you think your autism colored your experience on these flights?
I’m sure it did a little, but it really wasn’t a big deal. People on the more severe side of the autism spectrum probably would have trouble with security and airplane delays and seatmates fighting you for the armrest. I was able to manage it. In general, I think airlines should offer more accommodations for autistic people. Maybe a few economy seats with more legroom so people don’t feel cramped and have anxiety about that. Maybe a few rows with armrests for everyone—so nobody has to share.
