”My name is Carly, and I’ve lived 32 years in a body the world constantly comments on.

I’m obese, not the kind where people use cute nicknames — the kind where strangers feel entitled to judge what’s in my grocery cart or shame me for existing in public spaces.

That’s the reason why when I fly alone, I always buy two airplane seats. Not for luxury — for peace.Recently, on a work trip, I paid $176 for an extra seat so I wouldn’t spend three hours pressed against someone glaring at me.

I boarded early, settled into my window and middle seats, and tried to relax.

That’s when a couple showed up — him smug, her sparkling — and plopped right into my extra seat.
“Sorry,” I said, “I paid for both seats.”

They laughed. “Seriously? You bought two just for you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s empty,” he said, ignoring me and sitting down.

His girlfriend chimed in, “It’s not a big deal. You’re being a fat jerk.”Though their words stung, I smiled. “Fine. Keep the seat.”

Once we were airborne, I pulled out a giant bag of chips and made very sure I claimed every inch of space I’d paid for — jostling him, bumping elbows, taking up space unapologetically.

He finally snapped and called over a flight attendant. She checked the records and confirmed: I owned both seats.

He was ordered back to 22C. When he stomped away, his girlfriend hissed, “You really needed two seats just for being fat? Pathetic.”

I calmly reported her comment to the flight crew.

The attendant took it seriously and filed a harassment report.When we landed, I made sure the airline had it in writing.

Days later, I got an email: the couple had been flagged, and I was credited 10,000 bonus miles for the mistreatment.