STAYING ALIVE

Jen Costa, 35

As I walked through the doors at the slimming group, I could feel my cheeks flush crimson with embarrassment.

I was barely a teenager and already on a strict diet to try and control my spiralling weight.

‘Go on,’ my adoptive mum Cathy, 66, said, giving me a gentle nudge towards the scales.

Pushing 16 stone, I was classed as morbidly obese.

My parents had tried everything to help me beat the bulge for the sake of my health.

They loved me no matter what, but they desperately wanted me to be fit and healthy.

They restricted my diet and tried to get me to be more active, but I struggled with the limitations and it had the opposite effect.

Instead, I snuck food in secret.

Creeping up to my bedroom, I’d gorge on crisps and chocolate until I felt sick.

I quickly became addicted to the rush the junk food gave me and was