TRUE LIFE
I’d lost so much weight, I was mistaken for my loyal fella’s fancy lady Gemma Loveden, 37, Merseyside
Pushing a buggy to the shops with my six kids, sweat dripped down my back and my legs were on fire.
It’s not even sunny and I’m boiling, I thought.
Then a group of teenagers walked by, eyes widening as they saw me.
‘Come on kids, nearly there,’ I said, heart racing.
It was spring 2021, and at 27st 7lb and size 28, I should have been used to people’s stares, rude gestures and laughter by now.
But I wasn’t.
I was absolutely mortified to be so heavy.
As a kid I was always taller than my mates, but as the years passed, I became bigger too.
Tried my first diet at 13. Never kept off the weight. At 17, I moved in with my partner Guy.
Loved whipping us up homemade meals, but my portions were massive and I was a sucker for getting takeaways too.
At 18, I fell pregnant with our first child, Crystal. Craved Ribena and sugary foods, making me more than 20st by the time she arrived.
After that, I ate anything and everything.
In 2011, when Crystal was 5, Guy and I had Curtis.
Then, between 2016 and 2020 I had four back-toback pregnancies, adding Cassius, Clayah, Creeson and Carmelo to our family.
Each addition to the family added another stone or so to my frame.
And even when a nurse had tried to shock me into action when Carmelo was 6 months old, it hadn’t done the trick.
My obesity was contributing to my asthma and high cholesterol.
‘If you don’t lose weight, you might not make it to your 40th birthday,’ the nurse said.
That was only six years away!
And now, pushing Carmelo and Creeson in their double buggy surrounded by their siblings, I was a hot, sweaty mess. The baby weight just sticks, I told myself.
Besides, I loved cooking. So much, that in July 2021 I started up a Facebook group called Foodie Family Meals.
Through it, I shared my passion for cooking, posting photos of my nutritious, hearty and affordable meals. Soon I had thousands of eager members.
I was eating good food and healthy ingredients, but just far too much of it, far too often.
The kids kept me busy, and I adored being a mum.
But I’m not the mummy they deserve, I thought.
Years of fad diets had failed miserably.
My self-esteem was at rock bottom.
Then I discovered my friend who had been diagnosed with cancer had passed away, leaving two little ones behind.
Heartbroken for them, it made me think.
The nurse’s warning just a few months earlier rang loudly, too.
What am I doing? My pal had died from a terrible, merciless disease. Yet I was carrying all this weight and had he
