I have a confession.
I cry on airplanes. Like, a lot. I watch movies I would never pay to watch down on the ground... movies like "The Vow", "New Year's Eve", and "No Strings Attached"... and have the tissues ready. The worst in recent memory was watching "The Notebook" on my flight back from the Bahamas during business school, where I was literally convulsing and the flight attendant had to ask if I was okay. My face dripping with tears, I sheepishly nodded and just pointed to the screen. I noticed that the stranger in the middle seat had squeezed as far away as possible from me.
Over a pitcher of sangria in a charming Jakarta bar the other night, I found out I wasn't alone.
One colleague confessed she always had to sit apart from her (mainly male) colleagues at Microsoft whenever they boarded a flight. Another told about her breakdown on a cycle rickshaw in India, thus not limiting this phenomenon to 30,000 feet.
As it turns out, it seems one way to separate the population is those who cry on airplanes vs. those that don't. I read an article showing that 44% of American men surveyed cry in airplanes versus 58% of women.
There are lot of theories for this. The one I like best, perhaps because it sounds the most "scientific" is that studies have found a linkage between long-term high altitude and changes in the oxytocin receptor. Oxytocin is often dubbed the "love hormone" (released in large amounts during childbirth) and apparently is also one of the hormones that makes us cry.
My other favorite theory (which seemed sheer genius with my third glass of sangria) is this: for people (especially women) who are moving 24/7, juggling multiple priorities, and always on the go, sitting on a plane at 30,000 is often the only time we're truly still. Lots of emotions that we probably should have been processing flood all at once, and need the most trivial of triggers to set off.
Then there are lots of other theories I've read about - none of which really resonate, such as: we're all subconsciously aware that our plane can crash at any point and our lives aren't in our hands (um, a bit dramatic); we're stressed and emotional about leaving loved ones (although I cry even flying with Tyler); there's nothing else to do (um, I'd like to see correlation on that one).
In my highly academic google searches of this phenomenon, I came across an incredible program on "This American Life" (audio here; transcript here). In it, the speaker says:
I cry on airplanes. Like, a lot. I watch movies I would never pay to watch down on the ground... movies like "The Vow", "New Year's Eve", and "No Strings Attached"... and have the tissues ready. The worst in recent memory was watching "The Notebook" on my flight back from the Bahamas during business school, where I was literally convulsing and the flight attendant had to ask if I was okay. My face dripping with tears, I sheepishly nodded and just pointed to the screen. I noticed that the stranger in the middle seat had squeezed as far away as possible from me.
Over a pitcher of sangria in a charming Jakarta bar the other night, I found out I wasn't alone.
One colleague confessed she always had to sit apart from her (mainly male) colleagues at Microsoft whenever they boarded a flight. Another told about her breakdown on a cycle rickshaw in India, thus not limiting this phenomenon to 30,000 feet.
As it turns out, it seems one way to separate the population is those who cry on airplanes vs. those that don't. I read an article showing that 44% of American men surveyed cry in airplanes versus 58% of women.
There are lot of theories for this. The one I like best, perhaps because it sounds the most "scientific" is that studies have found a linkage between long-term high altitude and changes in the oxytocin receptor. Oxytocin is often dubbed the "love hormone" (released in large amounts during childbirth) and apparently is also one of the hormones that makes us cry.
My other favorite theory (which seemed sheer genius with my third glass of sangria) is this: for people (especially women) who are moving 24/7, juggling multiple priorities, and always on the go, sitting on a plane at 30,000 is often the only time we're truly still. Lots of emotions that we probably should have been processing flood all at once, and need the most trivial of triggers to set off.
Then there are lots of other theories I've read about - none of which really resonate, such as: we're all subconsciously aware that our plane can crash at any point and our lives aren't in our hands (um, a bit dramatic); we're stressed and emotional about leaving loved ones (although I cry even flying with Tyler); there's nothing else to do (um, I'd like to see correlation on that one).
In my highly academic google searches of this phenomenon, I came across an incredible program on "This American Life" (audio here; transcript here). In it, the speaker says:
See, my name is Brett and I cry at movies on airplanes. Not sometimes, always. And not some movies, all movies. Don't believe me? Here's a by no means complete list. Bend It Like Beckham, 101Dalmations, What A Girl Wants, Daredevil.
Let me be clear. I am not afraid of flying. I like flying. And I'm not a crier, at least not on land. Like many men I know, even sensitive ones who know that having a cry can be healthy and good, I passed some invisible line in adolescence where I simply stopped doing it. There have been many times in life that I probably should have cried, actually tried to cry, and wasn't able to. Because, of course, I didn't happen to be at 30,000 feet.
One of my favorites is Steven's story:
Steven
And they were just running this loop of commercials and in-flight programming and stuff. They hadn't started the movie. It was very early on. And there was this AMEX commercial. A man traveling through Europe, and you know, I think it was nighttime. I want to say it was raining or something. And this kind of haggard traveller, this businessman, is walking briskly through the street. And then they close up on a wallet, clearly his, that he had left behind unknowingly.
And then you see, cut to the hotel where he's checking in. And the woman asks for a credit card. And then he pats himself down and realizes he doesn't have it. He goes into a state of panic. I think that's when I started choking up.
And then he gets American Express on the phone. They explain it'll be OK. He'll have a credit card in the morning. And then I start to relax a little bit. And then he says wait, I'm not going to be in this city. Tomorrow I have to travel. And then I started chocking up again. And then they said, oh, we'll have a waiting for you in that city. And then I just started crying after that. I was so happy for him, and relieved. It was a pretty tense situation there for about 15 or 20 seconds.
I'm right there with you, Steven!
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