Dear God,
Thank You for being with me on my first flight. It felt like a first glimpse into what this industry is really like. There are moments where you shine and appear confident, and moments where you realize how much you still have to learn. There are times you feel scared, humbled, and even tested. You have to stand your ground, stay strong, and sometimes carry things quietly on your own. You learn to find happiness where you can, and above all, to take care of yourself. I suppose… that’s life, too.
I’m in bed now in my hotel here in Guam. From the outside, it’s beautiful—luxurious, surrounded by high-end stores like Givenchy, Coach, Chloé, and Balenciaga, much like my hotel in Hawaii. Inside, it reflects the island in its own way—bamboo-style wood, stone-like floors, a low bed, and a bidet. But there’s a tub, and I’m grateful for that. I love being able to soak and unwind.
My flight, however, was incredibly difficult—honestly, a nightmare. I felt targeted and unsupported. Amara made the experience especially hard, even going as far as contributing to a negative report about me and speaking to me harshly in front of others. At one point, she aggressively took items from my hands and made fun of me being benched. It was humiliating.
I also burned my arm on the oven door, and I didn’t feel like I had proper guidance in the galley. Being surrounded by classmates who seemed against me made it even more isolating. Teresa stayed neutral, which I appreciated. Haley made a comment that didn’t sit right with me, but I chose to let it go. Karla showed me kindness, and I’m thankful for that. Tee was upstairs and removed from everything.
This experience showed me where I truly stand with certain people. It’s painful, but at least now I see things clearly.
I’m exhausted—mentally and physically. I may have already taken a sleeping pill earlier, but I took another because I just want to rest and stop reliving everything. I’m grateful to be in bed, in a dark, quiet room. I’m holding on to hope for tomorrow… or later today, I should say.
It was difficult, but I believe I’m going to be okay.
Father, please protect me from all evil. Thank You for everything You’ve done for me. Amen.
Now it’s the next day—the night before my second flight as an official flight attendant, heading to Australia. I’m feeling overwhelmed because my smoke alarm started going off, and I didn’t know how to stop it. I’ve been so tired, running on almost no sleep. Thankfully, maintenance came quickly, and the situation was handled faster than I expected.
Father, I just took a sleeping pill. My alarm is set for six hours from now—not nearly enough rest, but I will manage. I heard it may rain the entire time in Australia, but I pray I still find moments of joy. Right now, all I want is rest. I’m thinking of taking it easy tomorrow—maybe wearing flats and pacing myself. The job is physically demanding, and I know I’ll need my strength.
I’m sorry if it feels like I’m complaining. Please don’t take this opportunity away from me. I just want to speak to You honestly. I felt so alone at the beginning of this trip, but I’m praying things will get better. I’m praying my next flight goes smoothly. I truly need Your help.
I asked for this experience—for a glimpse into this industry. But sometimes it feels like I’ve been preparing for this my whole life. I know not everyone will like me, and that’s something I’m still learning to accept. Deep down, I’ve always just wanted to feel loved. Maybe that will come in time. For now, I just want to succeed.
I wish I could have taken my parents to New Orleans like I planned. It hurts that I couldn’t afford it. I wanted to show them how much I appreciate them. I didn’t even stop at the gift shop, but I will make it right—I’ll bring them something from Australia. I won’t come home empty-handed. I need to stop being so hard on myself.
I feel like I keep making mistakes. I may have already been written up twice. But You know the truth. I pray I stay out of trouble moving forward. I pray everything works itself out. Please don’t let chaos follow me. Help me shift my perspective so I can see these moments as lessons and blessings—even if it takes me time to recognize them.
I don’t understand why some people treat me the way they do. I try to be kind to everyone. But I’ve noticed a pattern—when I decline invitations, people sometimes turn against me. Maybe moving forward, I’ll just be honest and say I prefer staying in. I am a homebody, and that’s okay.
The medicine is starting to take effect. It’s time for me to sleep.
I pray for peaceful rest.
In Jesus’ name, Amen
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