On the left I was about 17 stone, on the right (today) I am 14 stone. I still have a way to go, but I’m so glad I’ve come as far as I have.

The photo on the left was taken in Bali.  I was surprised because a monkey climbed up me to steal my banana my boyfriend and I travelled round Australia and Asia for a year and it was amazing, but now I feel so much sadness that I was so fat when we went.

I missed out on experiences due to my weight. I wanted to do a sky dive but I was literally too heavy.

I would’ve liked to learn to surf but I was too unfit. I was so fucking hot and sweaty the whole time. I was afraid to wear shorts and skirts because of the dreaded chub rub, not to mention that I was too overweight to wear little clothes.

These were the only shorts I could wear and I’d had to sew them myself to make them fit. From the whole year there are only about 4 photos of me because I was so unhappy with how I looked. There are hundreds of photos of Jack in the most incredible places but none of me.

I really wish I had been slimmer and happier so that I had more photos of myself to look back on from our once in a lifetime trip. I wish I’d been able to wear cute summer clothes and nice bikinis. I feel a lot of regret. At least I’m doing something about it now though, and next time I go on holiday there’ll be millions of photos of me to make up for it.

I’m 5 foot 9 for anyone wondering, 196lb, current BMI of 29.