Mandy Sandhar, 38, impressed her husband with her new look, so he decided to join her
WORDS: RACHEL TOMPKINS, JOHANNA BELL
Pain seared through my stomach as the safety bar pushed down. But my relief that the metal barrier had managed to click into place over my size-22 frame was replaced with panic as I imagined the rollercoaster jolting from side to side at speed – the bar digging deeper and deeper into my flesh. As my friends chatted excitedly next to me, I called the ride attendant back. ‘I need to get off,’ I whispered. Hot tears pricked my eyes as I walked back past the queue, my head hanging in shame.
It was 2018 and, aged 34, I’d met my university friends at a theme park for a fun reunion. Only, I now realised it wasn’t going to be any fun for me. This was the second ride I’d been too fat for – on the first, the safety bar hadn’t even made it over my lap.
BIG APPETITE
Looking back, I should have been prepared for what happened, but my weight had crept up so slowly over the years, I hadn’t really noticed. I’ve always had a big appetite and enjoyed food. My mum laughed that when I was little, I’d make loud noises of appreciation when she fed me. At school, I always finished my lunch because my mum taught me it was a sign of respect and I hated waste – so much so that I’d eat my friends’ leftovers too!
My weight didn’t bother me but as I got older the bullying started. I hid away to avoid the nasty comments. Food was my comfort; I’d sit at home eating to fill the social gaps. When I started university I weighed 17st. It was the first time I’d properly socialised and I had nothing to wear. Spending my student loan on clothes, I found the only outfits that fit my 5ft 5in, size-22 frame were dowdy and unfashionable. I felt awful next to my slim, glamorous friends and started making excuses not to go out. ‘I’m too tired,’ I’d lie.
Moving home after uni to help my parents by doing the admin for the family’s convenience store, I became a recluse, food being my only comfort. When my weight hit 20st though, I knew I couldn’t carry on. ‘I’ve got to do something,’ I told my parents.
I started counting calories and jumped on the cross trainer at home every day. I started doing 10 minutes at a time and built up to two 45-minute sessions a day. I lost 11st in a year and felt like a new woman.
Soon after, in 2013, a family friend introduced me to Sonny Sandhar, then 28. I was reluctant at first, having never had even so much as a love interest. But Sonny was tall, dark and handsome, and
