From Nanny Life to Mile-High Dreams

I was knee deep in diapers and ABCs when I realized: I need out.

Not because I didn’t love my nanny babies (they were adorable, chaotic little humans with snack addictions and sticky fingers), but because I was watching life pass me by from the floor of a nursery. I’d be changing a diaper while my phone pinged with a group text: “Brunch at 1?” Girl, I haven’t seen 1 PM freedom in months. By that time, I was probably in the middle of a meltdown theirs or mine, hard to say.

Let me paint the picture for you: it’s a beautiful Friday afternoon in Detroit. The sun is out, the streets are alive, everyone is dressed like they’re about to stumble into their soulmate… and me? I’m standing in a park pushing a stroller, wondering if I’ll ever feel the bottomless joy of a mimosa flight again.

Now, don’t get me wrong I was a damn good nanny. I knew every park with shade, every allergy friendly snack, and how to defuse a tantrum like a trained hostage negotiator. But even the best of us have our breaking point. Mine came the day I realized I was Googling “Can you get arthritis from pushing a stroller uphill?”

And the kicker? That midday shift. The midday shift is a scam. Who invented it? Why does it exist? It’s the shift that slices your day in half and ruins both ends of it. You can’t do anything fun before work because you’re preparing for your shift, and you can’t do anything after because you’re drained, crusty, and smell faintly of milk and Goldfish crumbs.

So one day, as I was sipping my sad iced coffee during nap time, scrolling through Instagram and watching people zip around the world with cute little cabin crew pins on, I had a thought:
“Maybe I should be a flight attendant.”

Now, let me be honest I didn’t come to this idea because I was passionate about safety demonstrations or had a lifelong dream of pushing a beverage cart. No. I came to this idea because:

1. I love travel.
2. I wanted out of NannyLand.
3. I needed something new.
4. And I figured: free flights and a little bit of glamor? Count me in.

I saw myself breezing through terminals, laying over in Lisbon, exchanging flirty glances with strangers in foreign lounges. I had fully romanticized the entire career in under ten minutes. All I needed was the outfit, the badge, and the boarding pass. I thought I’d be that girl the one who wakes up in one country, grabs espresso in another, and FaceTimes her friends from hotel balconies like, “Guess where I am today, bitches?”

So, I started manifesting. I was practicing my safety demo with a wooden spoon in the mirror. I was YouTubing “Day in the Life of a Flight Attendant” like it was a final exam. I even bought luggage, y’all. Luggage. Before I had an interview. Because delusion is powerful and I live in it proudly.

I even had my little speech ready in case anyone asked why I wanted to do this. I was going to say something noble like,

“I just really love people. I’m passionate about travel. I believe in making people feel safe and seen, even at 30,000 feet.”

Girl, please.

If we’re being real, I wanted to be able to see my man in L.A. for free, fly to Paris just to eat bread, and maybe get drunk in every timezone at least once. I wanted freedom. I wanted novelty. I wanted a life that didn’t smell like a sippy cup and sadness. And I figured this was it.

But what I didn’t know what none of us know until it’s too late is that flight attendant life is less “Sex and the City in the sky” and more “Corporate cult with wings.” But don’t worry, we’re going to get into all of that in the next posts.

Still, in that moment, I was excited. I was bold. I was booking my interview flight (ironically, on a budget airline because I wasn’t one of the girlies with flight benefits yet). I told my friends I was about to start a new life. I even made a playlist titled “Flight Attendant Era ✈️💅🏽”. You couldn’t tell me a damn thing.

And while I didn’t know what was coming next, I knew one thing for sure: I was done missing out.

Done with park playdates, done with diaper bags, done with wiping little faces while wiping away dreams of my own. I wanted my twenties back. I wanted chaos and curiosity and cocktails in Cabo.

Was I underestimating the job? Absolutely.
Did I romanticize it to hell? Of course.
Would I still do it again? Maybe. But we’ll get there.

So if you’ve ever had that moment sitting at your desk or wiping a kid’s face or watching the sunset from behind a counter thinking “There has to be more than this…” just know you’re not alone.

Sometimes we leap into something new, not because it’s perfect, but because it’s possible.

And girl, I leapt.

Stay tuned for Blog 2, where I show up to my interview fresh out the gym because my power was out and someone said they wanted to unalive themselves mid interview. Yes. You read that right.

This story only gets better.