My year of learning to love my body
At more than 21st, Debbie Wattis knew she had to lose weight – so to keep herself on track, she kept a diary. The mum-of-four, 48, from Birmingham, reveals what she has learned during her journey back to health
How keeping a diary helped one mum lose more than 5st
‘I would eat because I wasn’t in control of my emotions’
Ionce had more than 100 cardigans in my wardrobe – many of them were the same style, and almost all were black. The reason for my compulsion was my weight: I was a size 28 and weighed 21st 5lb and I relied on the cardigans to hide behind.
They weren’t the only things I hid behind. I also had a good line in jokes at my own expense. If someone was trying to take a photo of me, I’d be ready with a quip like, ‘You might need to take a few panoramic shots to get all of me in!’ But inside, I would be crying.
It was a photograph that first made me self-conscious about my weight. When I was 12, we went on holiday with another family who had two boys a bit older than me, and my mother wanted
me to wear the new bikini she’d bought for me. She took a photo of me wearing it and the boys laughed at me. I can still feel the humiliation as if it was yesterday.
I had no more than a tiny bit of puppy fat back then, yet after that I felt exposed. In my memory that’s when my eating disorder started; although, with the benefit of hindsight, I realise that it’s never as simple as one trigger.
I had a generally happy childhood with a supportive family. But at school I was bullied for being dyslexic. I’d compare myself with my brother and sister, who were both more sporty and chatty, and I felt I lacked something. I had cripplingly low self-esteem, exacerbated by someone close to me once saying, ‘No one could love you,
‘I blamed my hormones or my underactive thyroid’
not even God.’ I would get upset and then eat for comfort because I wasn’t in control of my emotions. Then I’d get upset that I’d eaten and eat again to cheer myself up. It was a vicious circle.
For the next 30 years, I would binge-eat in secret. I’d hide food around the house and whenever I felt the need, I would sneak off to devour a packet of biscuits or a chocolate bar. I didn’t like the taste of vegetables or fish, so if we went out for a meal, it would usually be pizza or burgers. By the time I was 18, I weighed 18st.
I’d try to diet; I’ve done most diet plans over the years, from Slimming World, to the Cambridge Diet. To start with, I’d lose a lot of weight, but then it would stall and I would return to my old ways.
I was in denial as to the cause of my obesity. I’d say that I put on weight easily or that I had big bones. I’d blame my hormones or my underactive thyroid. As for the lack of exercise, I’d say I wasn’t designed to run, because at 5ft 9in I was ‘too tall’. I had an answer for everything.
I was at my lightest on my wedding day in November 1996, weighing 15st. Matt, who’s now 45, was a friend of my brother and worked with my father. I knew him as a friend first but our relationship developed. He was my first serious boyfriend and has never been anything other than supportive of me. He’s always told me I’m beautiful. When Matt proposed, I was 18st, and I was the one who wanted to be thinner on our wedding day.
However, in the years after the wedding, the weight crept back on. I couldn’t walk more than a few metres without getting out of breath, and just getting up from the sofa would take 10 minutes. I developed sleep apnoea, which often stems from being overweight, and I had to sleep wearing an oxygen mask.
Emotionally I wasn’t great, either. I’d easily get irritated and snappy, even with Matt and our four boys. Sadly, Matt and I weren’t able to have children of our own, but we adopted four brothers who came to us when they were young, starting in 2002. I love them all fiercely, but it wasn’t always easy and there were times when I became depressed.
Matt and my parents would beg me to lose weight for my own sake. I used
to laugh and tell them ‘talk to the hand, the face ain’t listening’. It felt too difficult to change my ways. Then, at the end of 2015, Matt was offered an amazing business opportunity, but because it would have meant working long hours, he turned it down to spend time with me. It made me think that if Matt was prepared to make such a huge sacrifice for me, then I needed to sort myself out.
I vowed to start on New Year’s Day 2016. My goal was to lose 70lb by October to celebrate my father’s 70th birthday. I started a diary to chart my progress, with drawings to illustrate how I felt on a particular day. My first diary entry reads: ‘I AM going to lose weight this year. So today is New Year’s
Day and I did absolutely nothing towards dieting. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow.’
And, astonishingly, I did start. On 2 January I downloaded a fitness app and weighed myself. I was horrified to find I was 21st 5lb.
On a diet of 1,200 calories a day, I cut out junk food, such as chocolate and biscuits. I also began exercising, using a personal trainer to keep me motivated. By the end of the first month, I’d dropped nearly a stone. However, I didn’t feel I was tackling it properly, so I hired Jen Adams, a nutritionist from Leamington Spa, who put me on a detox plan. I felt physically ill from the sugar withdrawal. By the fourth day I was giddy and shaky; I was in floods of tears over my lunch and had to go to bed for the afternoon.
With other addictions, such as alcoholism, it’s more cut and dried: you can’t touch any alcohol. But when you’re addicted to food, you still have to eat; you can’t detach yourself from the problem. I was so close to quitting during the detox, but I stayed strong, sticking to fish, chicken, vegetables, fruit and salad. Noting the small milestones helped. Over the following weeks, I realised my clothes weren’t so tight, and friends and family were starting to notice.
By the end of May 2016, I’d dropped to
17st 5lb. Writing my diary helped, even more so when I started sharing it online as a blog after a few months. It held me accountable and made me stick to my diet. I found the writing therapeutic and would draw pictures to show how I felt each day. Being dyslexic, I’ve always found it easier to illustrate my thoughts.
The changes in my life were
immediate. I no longer shied away from the camera, and I could bend down to tie my shoelaces. Exercising also became easier; I’d walk, swim, cycle and do HIIT classes. I even started running. And the cardigans were banished – unless it was cold!
My relationships with Matt and the children also improved enormously. Matt and I talked in a way that we hadn’t for years. On holidays, I could join in with the family, kicking a football around.
Then, in August 2016, we all climbed mount Snowdon together. It was one of my long-term goals, although privately I’d classed it as my Mission Impossible. I cried when we got to the top. I’m not sure if it was the pain or because I was so overwhelmed that I had managed it.
By my father’s 70th birthday in October 2016, I’d achieved my goal and lost 70lb. I gave my dad a sculpture made of 70 blocks of granite, weighing one pound each, to show him just how much weight I’d lost. He’d longed for me to take control of my weight and he was so proud of me.
By the end of the year, I’d lost a total of 5st 5lb (75lbs), which was amazing. But more than that, I’d rediscovered my
‘I started a diary with drawings to illustrate how I felt each day’
‘I feel like I’ve turned from a caterpillar into a butterfly’
self-worth. Through writing about my emotions, and drawing pictures every day, I got to know myself better. I realised that I’d been in denial; that
I’d thought I was happy but I wasn’t. And setting goals for myself kept me motivated. In 2017, I ran a half-marathon in Rwanda, and the next year, I tackled a race in Kenya. They were both phenomenal experiences.
But then in March this year, I was diagnosed with breast cancer during a routine health examination. The doctors caught it early, so I had the lump removed and I only required hormone therapy afterwards.
Mentally, though, I struggled with the shock of the diagnosis and went back to my old ways. One evening, Matt brought it up in conversation. There was a time when I’d have stonewalled him, but this time we ended up talking and I explained that, despite having so much help and support, I’d felt very alone since my diagnosis. He hugged me, and talking about it helped enormously. I stopped binge eating in secret and in June my treatment ended.
I currently weigh around 18st but I know that I can lose the weight. I’m exercising again, doing Pilates, yoga, swimming and walking.
The biggest change is my mindset. The scales don’t rule my life. I’m driven to watch what I eat by my desire to stay physically and emotionally healthy. I’ve gone from a person who couldn’t get off the sofa, to someone who ran a half marathon. I feel like I’ve turned from a caterpillar into a butterfly. That sort of transformation makes you believe you can do anything – and you can.
• My Year In Pictures by Debbie Wattis is on sale at debbiewattis.com