Six years ago today, I said “I do” to THE most wonderful man in the world. Rom and I flew to Hawaii for our honeymoon. I am not a tiny woman and the aisle in between the rows of seats is not very large. I bumped my way down the aisle in search of my seat. I could almost feel a sigh of relief as I passed each person already settling into their seats. I felt that if I listened very carefully I could hear each passenger say “Whew, at least she won’t be sitting next to me for the next five hours.”

I located our designated row and eventually plopped myself down next to the window. Grace was not, has not, nor probably will not ever be my middle name. The first thing I had to do was pull the arm rest up so that I could fit inside the seat. The next thing was to get my seatbelt on. I pulled it to its full length.

For some reason I approached that darned seatbelt with almost the same type of dread that I used to have when I hopped on the scales at a doctor’s office. I held my breath, sucking in my stomach as much as I possibly could. I pulled the seatbelt but the connecting end was still a long way from the connected end. I pulled and pulled but there was no way that tiny thin scrap of material would extend across my belly. I seriously considered just faking it and laying the seat belt across my lap but my fear of flying through across the ocean unprotected changed my mind for me.

I had to ask the flight attendant for an extension for my seat belt. At least the flight attendant was very discrete about handing me the extra length all neatly rolled up in a tight little package. She did NOT make a big deal out of it, but my mind certainly did. My husband is not a small man, but he didn’t have to request an extender and the fact that I needed one was certainly devastating. I wanted to simply crawl into a hole. To say that I was mortified would certainly be a gross understatement.

For some reason my brain picked that moment to remember something I’d heard a while back. “Imagine this moment as a snapshot.” I’m not sure where or even when I’d heard that particular thought but my brain chose that precise second to pull it out, dust it off, and smack me upside the head with its wisdom.

Hmmm, “imagine this moment as a snapshot,” I thought as I held the extended in my hand and head hung in shame. I had a choice of capturing this moment in time with a smile on my face and love in my heart or dread in the pit of my stomach.

And then I made a choice to stop with the good for nothing “dread stuff” already. I was on my honeymoon, for crying out loud. The wonderful man sitting beside me was the love of my life – he’d seen me naked and that hadn’t stopped him from saying “I do.” We were on our way to Maui, the island of romance and love.

I unrolled the extender thingy and really looked at it. This was not my enemy, but simply a tool to get me where I wanted to go with the man I wanted to go there with. I snapped that extension on the seat belt and buckled myself safely into place, feeling the joy return to my body and soul. My husband and I were on our way to Hawaii to celebrate our love for each other. And without that extension, this moment would not be possible. I patted that extender and leaned over to plant a kiss on my husband’s cheek.

We spent a glorious week in Maui – did all the touristy things including going to an extraordinary luau, one where each party had their own table and server. The food was absolutely delicious and I thoroughly enjoyed every single morsel of it – even though I’m sure I ate enough food in one sitting to feed a small country. Of course I’d love to say that I only ate that one meal – but we were on vacation and I was NOT going to deny myself any part of the experience.

Rom and I saw shows, made love, took day trips, made love, watched the sunsets, made love, bought a time share – you know, the same things that everyone does when they are in Hawaii and on their honeymoon.

I wore my size 3X shorts amongst those little ladies that wore a size 0. Granted, I probably used more sun screen than they did, but I did everything the skinny girls did. Who knows maybe those girls wrinkled up their noses, gasping in silence at my size – maybe they were on their own honeymoon and maybe, in actuality, they never even paid one little bit of attention to me. It is very
possible that I was simply NOT the center of their universe. Wow, now that’s a huge concept, isn’t it?

The one thing I did realize is that joining my husband and becoming the center of our own universe was pretty darned spectacular. When you are in love, frolicking around and having a great time just becomes more important than worrying about what everyone else thinks of me. I was already deeply in love with Rom before arriving in Hawaii but for some reason I was also learning to fall in love with myself.

When we boarded the plane on our way home, I greeted the flight attendant with a smile on my face and love deeply rooted in my heart. As I started making my way down the aisle way, I turned around and said to our flight attendant (out loud and not necessarily using my “inside voice”, I might add) “I will need a seatbelt extender”.

“No problem,” she said without a flinch. “I’ll bring one to you in a moment. Just let me finish greeting the rest of passengers. Go ahead and find your seat and I come find you before we take off.”

Did everyone already seated on that plane look at me and shudder? How the heck do I know! I’ve come to the conclusion that what other people think of me is none of my business. Aloha – or should I say “ah ha!”