Today was the first time I can remember flying on a plane and not feeling shame. I am in my seat and no part of me is pouring into the seat next to me. The armrest is down. My seatbelt is tightened, I’m not touching my seat-mate with my let and I did not need to ask for a seatbelt extender.
If you don’t know what an extender is, let me explain. You know the tool that the flight attendant uses to demonstrate how to safely securely fasten one’s seatbelt? It’s that. I sued to take one end and click it only my own belt, then secure the other end to the other end. This allowed me about an extra two feet of belt and allowed me to actually fasten the belt instead of hiding the unclosed buckles under my sweater because the two ends did not meet…not even close.
At one point in my travels, I started to collect extenders from different airlines because they vary in size and type. It was so embarrassing to ask the attendant for an extender. It was even more embarrassing to receive one from a not-so-subtle attendant who would walk through the isle shouting WHO NEEDED THE EXTENDER? WAS IT YOU? WAS IT YOU? Okay, that didn’t happen, but in my head, that’s how it felt. I have been on five airplanes this month and each belt fit. I didn’t have enough belt left to pull in order to secure the belt around my waste, but, dammit, it fit. For me, that is a non-scale victory!
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