It was Friday, November 7th, 2013. My alarm buzzed; it was pitch black outside and the taste of morning breath consumed my mouth. I had been through this routine of waking up early to catch a flight several times, but this was different. I was excited, threw my blankets off and hopped in the shower. Both enthusiastic and nervous, I was flying to NYC alone.

My parents. I have no memory of a single school or sporting event that my parents haven’t attended. In eighth grade, I was part of a male dance crew that performed at our school talent show. We had just got up on stage. I’m in Hugo Boss pink shorts, that rode a little high (super flattering) and a cutoff t-shirt with a Silverback Gorilla on it, just because that’s what was being rocked. I dabbed right, and immediately made eye contact with my mother and father. What the? What are they doing here? I never told them what time or when this talent show was. Somehow they have maneuvered their way into the auditorium and plopped themselves front row. They both looked up at me, smiled, and gave me the thumbs up. I laughed to myself and continued to tear up the dance floor. I can’t shake them, they really like to be around me.

I’m very appreciative I have had the opportunity to travel throughout the United States. My parents made it a point that I would not travel alone. As I got older, I felt the need to take one of these trips by myself. The summer before my freshman year I expressed my desire to travel alone with my parents and to my surprise they agreed.

So here I was, being picked up at 4:00 AM. It all went smoothly: the taxi ride, security and getting to the correct gate. I got to my seat and a chatty older man with a Dartmouth College shirt sat down next to me. Turns out he is a doctor (surprise) that went to Dartmouth. We were 30 minutes into the flight and I felt way more mature than my 15 years. I looked up and this girl with big block glasses, high-waisted red pants, and a brown turtleneck stumbled towards the front of the plane. She got to our seat, her face was as white as the dude from “Powder.”

BOOM! She hit the floor like a rock. As she was going down, she projectile vomited down the aisle. It was a scene in a movie. The flight attendant began to scream “Do we have a doctor on board?!” I was in complete shock and believed I had just watched someone die. It was chaos. Dr. Dartmouth popped right up and performed a swift maneuver that put her legs above her head. She slowly woke up. Turns out she didn’t die, it was an anxiety attack. The doctor and the airline attendant cleaned her up and got her back to her seat. I think Dr. Dartmouth was afraid I was going to be his next patient. He smiled at me, gave me knuckles and told me “She’ll be ok”. I felt I had aged a decade in those 5 minutes.

I learned a lot about myself from this whole experience. I made it to NYC, and had a successful weekend. I found an appreciation for my parent's support and realize it is not meant to hinder my independence, but give me the confidence to be my best self. I understand why the 15-year-old Tillman was frozen and didn’t offer any help, but the new and improved adult Tillman realized the importance of being part of a solution and not just an innocent bystander. That has not and will not ever happen again.