I will start this by saying that I hate flying. I recognize the efficiency of flying, but I hate it. Not because I think I’m going to die, but because of my ears getting messed up. The first time I went on a plane and remembered it, I was thirteen, and my ears were messed up the entire vacation in New Orleans.

Despite hating flying, DFW International Airport has been a happy place for me. Before I transferred to OU, I went to a school in East Tennessee in the middle of nowhere. I was literally a thousand miles from home, and I was miserable. Arriving at DFW on break was always accompanied by a feeling of relief. It signaled to me that I was home at last.