At 16, and just over six feet tall, flying is always a challenge for me. My legs barely fit in economy seats, and on my last flight, things got worse when the man in front of me reclined his seat all the way back. My knees were crushed, and despite politely asking him to move his seat up, he refused.

Frustrated, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I grabbed a bag of pretzels from my mom’s carry-on and started eating loudly, letting crumbs fall all over him. He eventually noticed and snapped at me, but I calmly reminded him that I was just eating my snack in the seat I paid for.

After a few more minutes of crumbs, he finally gave in and raised his seat, giving me some much-needed legroom. The flight attendant, who had tried to help earlier, gave me a discreet thumbs-up as she walked by, clearly happy the situation was resolved.

My mom, amused by my strategy, whispered, “Clever, but don’t make a habit of it.” We both laughed, and the rest of the flight was much more comfortable.

As we left the plane, I felt proud of myself for standing up for my comfort, even if it took a little creativity. My mom joked about upgrading to first class next time, and I couldn’t agree more.