She Never Told Anyone Why She Hated Airports✈️

 Isabella hadn’t flown in five years. Not since Johannesburg.

People assumed it was ego. Maybe anxiety. Maybe that she’d gotten “too big” to fly with the rest of the world.

But the truth was older.

It lived in the body.

She was twelve the last time she flew commercial.

Her family was heading to Cape Town when immigration officers boarded the plane before takeoff.

She remembered her father saying, “Don’t say anything.”

She remembered her mother’s wrists in cuffs.

She remembered flying alone.

Since then, she’d built a quiet empire—The Therapy Theory, one of the most respected mental health platforms for women of color. She had turned her silence into a signal for others.

And yet when Zara invited her to headline The Soft Armor Summit—a radical mental health conference hosted by Zen with Zara—she hesitated.

“I want to come,” she said.

“But I can’t fly commercial.”

She didn’t say why.

She never did.

Zara didn’t ask.

She just offered an option.

A private jet. Quiet. Direct. No terminals. No metal detectors. No uniforms.

Isabella flinched.

“Private jets aren’t safe.”

Zara answered with a list:

• Black-owned operator
• Female pilot
• No handlers
• Full transparency

Isabella agreed.

She boarded with her father’s scarf folded in her carry-on, and a printed speech gripped tightly between her fingers.

The door closed.

The plane hummed to life.

And for the first time in two decades, she exhaled.

Not because the plane was luxurious.

Because it didn’t feel like a threat.

Sometimes, safety isn’t about the aircraft.

It’s about the memory.

And for women like Isabella, private isn’t indulgent—it’s the only kind of peace the sky can offer.

FemAir doesn’t just challenge myths—it creates space for healing.

Because real safety doesn’t start with engines.

It starts with intention.