In the world of air travel, flight attendants do much more than serve drinks and snacks—they are highly trained safety professionals, responsible for the well-being of all passengers. Among the many safety protocols they follow, one unusual practice often catches the eye: flight attendants sitting on their hands during takeoff and landing. While it may look odd to the average traveler, there is an important reason behind this procedure.
Image Credit: @_hennylim_ TikTok
Let’s explore the purpose of this practice and how it plays a critical role in ensuring safety during flights.
The Bracing Position Explained by a Flight Attendant
If you’ve ever noticed flight attendants buckling up in their jump seats and adopting a particular posture—sitting on their hands as the plane takes off or prepares to land—you might wonder what they’re doing. In a viral TikTok video, Cebu Pacific flight attendant Henny Lim sheds light on this often-overlooked protocol.
According to Lim, the posture flight attendants take, known as the bracing position, involves several key actions:
Fastening seatbelts securely
Sitting upright
Placing hands on their thighs with thumbs tucked in
Keeping arms relaxed
Ensuring their feet are flat on the floor
While this position may seem strange to passengers, it’s designed to serve a crucial purpose, especially in the event of an emergency.
Purpose of the Bracing Position
The main goal of the bracing position is to minimize movement and reduce the risk of injury if a crash or emergency landing occurs. During an impact, bodies can be thrown forward with significant force, leading to dangerous, uncontrolled movements, or flailing, which increases the risk of injury. By sitting on their hands and securing themselves, flight attendants limit their body’s motion and protect their limbs from potential harm.
Additionally, flight attendants use this time to mentally prepare for emergency scenarios. As Lim explains, this involves conducting a “silent review” where they mentally go over safety procedures, emergency exits, equipment, and commands. This mental preparation ensures they can act swiftly and effectively in the event of an emergency, prioritizing passenger safety at all times.
My Daughter and the Neighbors Daughter Look like Sisters, I Thought My Husband Was Cheating, but the Truth Was Much Worse
When the new neighbors moved in, I couldn’t shake the eerie similarity between their daughter and my own. Could my husband have a secret past? I had to confront him, but I soon discovered a truth far darker and more complex than I’d imagined.
There in the backyard, Emma and Lily played, spinning around like two golden sunflowers seeking sunlight. Their laughter echoed in perfect harmony, a sound that should have brought me joy, but instead sent a chill through me.
I squinted, searching for any difference in their appearances, yet they looked almost like duplicates. The same golden curls, button noses, and playful spark in their eyes. Only Emma’s slight height advantage set them apart.
“Heather?” Jack’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I forced a smile, pushing down my racing thoughts. “Just… thinking.”
As weeks went by, my suspicions grew, tangled in Jack’s uneasy glances and the secretive way he avoided our neighbors in conversation. I felt like I was suffocating in my own home, my perfect world now as shaky as a house of cards.
One night, after hours of restless turning, I blurted out, “Is Lily your daughter?”
The silence that followed felt dense and suffocating. Jack, caught off guard, looked at me, his face a mixture of shock and hurt. “Heather, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend, Jack. The girls look identical, and you’ve been avoiding the neighbors. Just tell me the truth.”
Jack finally sighed, shoulders heavy with a burden I hadn’t understood. “Heather, this is insane. I’d never betray you. But it’s not that simple. I… I can’t talk about this now.”
He left the room, leaving me reeling with unanswered questions.
The following day, desperate for clarity, I sent Emma off to play with Lily and then went to their house. I asked Lily’s father, Ryan, about his wife, and he invited me in. In the living room, there were only photos of Ryan, Lily, and family members who looked nothing like the girls. My eyes caught a large photograph of a blonde woman up the stairs.
“Is that Lily’s mom?” I asked, heart pounding.
Ryan’s face fell. “Yes, that’s Mary. She’s no longer with us.”
“Because of Jack? They had an affair, didn’t they?”
Ryan shook his head, horrified. “No. Jack and Mary were family. She was his sister.”
The room blurred around me as the truth sank in. Jack’s sister, Mary, was Lily’s mother. He had been carrying the weight of a fractured family and the regret of not being there for her.
When I returned home, Jack was waiting in the kitchen, his face ashen and vulnerable. “Heather,” he began, voice thick with emotion, “I wanted to protect you from the broken pieces of my past. I failed my sister, and I’ve been carrying that guilt.”
As he opened up, I saw years of pain and regret unravel before me, the distance between us shrinking with each word. By the time we finished talking, I felt closer to Jack than ever.
Outside, Emma and Lily’s laughter drifted through the open window. Watching them play side by side, they still looked like twins, but now, their resemblance didn’t feel haunting. Instead, it felt healing—a testament to a family reuniting, finding new strength in second chances. Their laughter echoed in the golden light, a promise of new beginnings that filled me with warmth instead of fear.
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