I fly often, and I always run into the same problem: I’m heavier than average, and I physically don’t fit into a standard seat without encroaching on the person next to me.
So I decided in advance to buy two tickets — one window seat and the seat next to it — so I wouldn’t bother anyone.I sat down and buckled my seatbelt when suddenly a woman with a small child approached me. Without asking, she sat her child down in the empty seat next to me. 😲😲
I calmly explained that this seat was also mine, that I paid for it, and that I needed it for personal reasons.
But the woman started protesting loudly.
And then I did something that ended this little performance…

Flying has never been easy for me.

I’ve always been aware of my body — how much space it takes, how uncomfortable standard airplane seats are, and how awkward it feels when your arm accidentally touches a stranger’s. Over the years, I learned to prepare. I arrive early, choose window seats, and most importantly, I buy an extra ticket.

Not for luxury.
Not for comfort.
But for dignity.

This flight was no different. I had paid for both the window seat and the middle seat beside it. I boarded early, settled in, and finally relaxed. For once, I didn’t have to worry about squeezing into a space that wasn’t made for me.

Then she arrived.

A woman in her late thirties, holding the hand of a small child, stopped in front of my row and stared at the empty middle seat like it was a gift from the universe.Before I could say anything, she placed her child in the seat and began buckling him in.

“Excuse me,” I said gently, keeping my voice calm. “That seat is also mine. I paid for both.”

She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at me like I had just insulted her entire family.

“What?” she snapped. “My child needs to sit here.”