Everyone under the age 10 wants to learn how to fly. Whether it be a dream of superhero capes or fairy wings, the idea of soaring above the rest seems to be a common glamorous fantasy. I like to think that that makes my life ambitions of becoming a pilot are youthful and dream-like (but hopefully realistic).

I have always toyed with the idea of becoming a pilot, but it wasn’t until I met my amazing friend Jara in Iceland that I was truly inspired. It happened quickly, on a typically-icy Sunday morning in Reykjavik, when Jara invited me to go out flying.

I loved it. I loved the airport, I loved the people in it and, of course, I loved the flight.

Since then, I have had some amazing opportunities to see the world from the cockpit. I have had some serious motivation and inspiration from my two pilot-friends, Jara and Sean. But I am sick of the right-hand seat. I want to be the Pilot in Command, and I am ready to be promoted to the left.

I may already look grown up to the 10-year-old wannabe superheroes and fairies out there. But I will only truly accept the responsibilities of being a grown-up when I am a fully-fledged, left-seated pilot.