I suffer from gate anxiety. That’s why I’m the first person queuing for the flight

Why does it feel like the airlines are constantly trying to catch us out with their baggage rules? One minute it’s free to bring your 10kg bag into the cabin with you, and the next you need to pack exactly 12.7kg into a suitcase made of suds and load it into the hold yourself when the moon is in its fourth quarter, otherwise it’s a fee of, oh, €4,000. These decrees change regularly enough that unless you’re a frequent flyer, you’re kept on your toes.

Getting on my first flight this year I checked the luggage allowance about 14 times to make sure I had it right. My priority Ryanair ticket allowed the 10kg bag, plus a smaller “personal” item that must fit under the seat in front of you. Currently, the cheapest option on Ryanair flights permits only the under-the-seat bag, leading to multiple viral moments on TikTok showcasing Amazon links to luggage with the exact dimensions, or tips and tricks for sneaking a few extra pairs of togs on to the plane. Stashed in a hood, stuffed in a pillowcase, and fashioned into a lumpy “baby bump” are just a few of the ways enterprising budget travellers have sneaked a few extra outfits on for Ibiza.

I find airports too stressful to bother stuffing extra pairs of knickers down my leggings. My eye starts twitching as soon as the woman three people ahead of me at security reveals that she’s wearing nine belts and hasn’t separated her liquids. Trying to have a relaxing preflight drink is usually thwarted by both the battle for a seat somewhere they are serving food – props to the nine-year-olds left to guard two tables and six suitcases while the others queue for hash browns and pints – and gate anxiety.

[ ‘We passed through the purgatory of Dublin Airport with ease, but faced a much bigger challenge after security’ ]

Gate anxiety is a fear that the departure point for your flight will be secretly revealed to all other passengers but not to you. Despite you checking the screens every three minutes, somehow they’ll all make their way calmly to the gate while you’re enjoying your anaemic toast. As you dart to the bathroom, eyes swivelling to every screen in case of an update on the way, your flight peers have already boarded and are effortlessly sliding their mini cases into the spacious overhead bins, laughing and touching their shiny hair. By the time your name has been garbled across the airport information system and you run the 2km to the gate, there’s no room left overhead and you’re forced to pace up and down the aisle looking for space while everyone watches. Several people are filming. The pilot keeps a running tally on the intercom of how many flight windows you’re causing the aircraft to miss. That’s gate anxiety. And it’s why I’m the first person queuing for the flight.

Our local supermarket had a creche, and I happily survived it

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Emer McLysaght: Good riddance Operation Transformation. Here’s what RTÉ should put in its place

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Every time I travel abroad I am gripped by the fear that Ireland is making a fool of me

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Emer McLysaght: You’re going to see phones at gigs. Suck it up

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Yes, the seats are assigned. Yes, we all have to get on anyway. And yes, I’m still queuing. My sole reason is to secure that space in the overhead bin. If it’s a flight where my luggage is checked I’m quite happy waiting until most people have boarded. But if it’s a free for all with the tiny wee suitcases, well then I’m front and centre and unafraid to ask the man in 27C to remove his coat from the precious overhead space. The coat goes under the seat or back out the rear door, Fintan. You don’t get an entire locker for your North Face puffer.

[ ‘I am terrified of a horror journey through Dublin Airport’: Readers’ holiday hopes and fears ]

People who complain about airport queuers baffle me. There are no medals awarded for sauntering on to the plane last. In fact, those who leave it to the very final minute usually end up disturbing a whole row as they inevitably turn out to have a window seat. How very aloof and well travelled. If you don’t want to queue, fine. But leave the anxious and the petty to their suitcase Jenga in peace.

There was a blissful time when Ryanair staff at the gate used to offer to stow 10kg bags in the hold free of charge. You needed to be at the right place in the queue – too far up and you’d have ample overhead space, too far back and they might not offer the free stowage and the nightmare outlined above might ensue. They were halcyon days for me. A free checked bag and zero overhead-locker anxiety? Sure that’s as good as the holiday itself.