“Mum is having trouble with her hemorrhoids, sir.”
My son looks very seriously at the flight attendant standing in front of him, the same flight attendant who just firmly told me to sit down. We are about to land at Ciampino Airport, returning to the city where I have the most beautiful memories from my student years. This time, I am bringing my son with me. He is passionate about architecture and cannot wait to see the Colosseum with his own eyes.
I laugh awkwardly and struggle into my Ryanair seat. How is it possible that I always feel ridiculously cramped with my 1.82 metres? I lean onto my right side and stretch my legs into the aisle. The woman sitting next to me looks disapprovingly at my long legs.
Hemorrhoids.
Yes, I have them. They appeared after the birth of my son and never completely disappeared. Most of the time they stay calm, but when stress enters the picture, desperation takes over. Suddenly it feels as if a little bunch of grapes has appeared down there, and believe me, it can be incredibly painful.
During those moments, I swap my thong for my Basic, Midi, or Taille underwear, and I take baths twice a day to keep everything clean and comfortable. Sitting becomes difficult, just like now, on this flight to Rome.
The woman sitting next to my son gives me an encouraging nod.
“Us women really have to go through a lot, don’t we, sweetheart?”
I laugh awkwardly and try to focus on the book I brought with me on holiday. It is called The Power of Imperfection, and I secretly hope it will help me gain some insights into accepting my own imperfections.
The woman next to my son continues:
“Would you be open to some advice for your strawberries?”
“Well, go ahead,” I say, laughing.
“Sweetheart, you really shouldn’t wear synthetic underwear. It only makes things worse. I discovered a brand recently, and it is absolutely amazing. The underwear is made from bamboo and it has a special gusset that is incredibly soft, absorbent, and leak-resistant. It’s called Pavone. Look, this is the webshop.”
She proudly shows me the webshop on her phone and scrolls through all the different styles of women’s underwear.
I thank her for her advice and feel a warm glow inside. I am bursting with pride.
My son takes my hand and whispers in my ear:
“Mum, aren’t you the owner of Pavone?”
I wink at him and put my finger to my lips.
Sometimes it feels good to simply say nothing.
This is how Pavone continues to grow. Women helping women, through kindness and love.
This woman is my heroine from flight E63L6S.
If you happen to read this, would you please send me a message? I have a beautiful little gift waiting for you as a thank you for the wonderful moment you gave me during this flight to Rome.
And those hemorrhoids?
They disappeared during the holiday like snow melting in the sunshine.
Thanks to litres of water instead of wine, fibre-rich croissants, floating in salty sea water, a proud son, and my Pavone bikini.
Since then, with every new order, I thank not only my customer, but also her friend, aunt, cousin, mother, sister, daughter, or neighbour.
Because without these women, I would not have the strength and support to get through those moments when my little “grapes” decide to return.
