20-year-old fitness influencer reveals 6 weight loss rules that helped her lose 52kg
Five years on, the student from Surrey in the UK has lost half her body weight — and those same bullies are suddenly trying their luck on Instagram.
'I never really got any male attention before uni … but now I get doors held open for me all the time,' Jessica, now a fitness influencer, said.
After years of comfort eating and zero exercise, the now University of Exeter student ballooned to 105kg at just 160cm (5ft, 3in) tall.
'I looked at food as a source of comfort. I had very low self-esteem, so I didn't like going out very much,' Jessica recalled.
While at school, people would often make comments.
'Someone said I was walking up the stairs 'too slowly', and another actually called me a whale,' she explained.
'They would laugh at me. I never felt like anybody found me attractive.'
The turning point came during the 2020 Covid lockdown when Jessica, then 15, decided to take control.
'Covid hit and everything shut down and I thought 'I've got an opportunity to better myself and I have a lot of time on my hands'.'
Starting with YouTube home workouts, inspired by Joe Wicks and Chloe Ting, she slowly fell in love with fitness and nutrition.
'Once you start seeing results, it gets easier,' she said.
Jessica, now a successful fitness influencer, credits a protein-rich diet and regular exercise for her dramatic transformation, losing an incredible 52kg since 2019.
'I was 105kg, so my health was on the line,' she said.
'I was bigger than my mum and most people in my family.
'I felt so miserable in myself that I didn't really care what I was eating.'
Her diet used to revolve around calorie-laden junk food.
'I used to eat lots of cakes and chocolate because it would give me short-time gratification,' Jessica explained.
'After school, I'd do a little Tesco shop and get a bag of sweets and chocolates.'
Now her typical day looks very different.
Breakfast might be protein pancakes topped with Greek yoghurt, berries, and honey.
Lunch could be an omelette with cheese and ham, plus a side salad.
And dinner is typically something like a Mexican chicken rice bowl, packed with peppers, onions, and avocado.
'I make sure I eat at least five fruits and veg every day, and I hit my protein goals, eating over the government-recommended amount of 2,000 calories a day,' the health fanatic said.
'You don't have to be scared of eating; you can achieve your goals without starving yourself.
'If I can do it, so can you.'
Alongside the diet overhaul, Jessica took up weightlifting to tone up.
'I had loose skin on my arms and legs, my inner thighs in particular.
'Only when I started weightlifting did I start to build muscle. I haven't looked back since.'
Her journey hasn't just changed her body, it's changed her confidence and life trajectory.
'If I hadn't gone through my weight-loss journey, I wouldn't be at a Russell group uni (meaning one of 24 leading, research-intensive universities in the UK) and I wouldn't be studying law,' Jessica explained.
She said her social life has transformed too.
'People 100 per cent treat me differently, even on the street.
'When you're a bigger girl people don't respect you as much. I never had someone hold the door open for me, but as a girl now I get that all the time.'
Many of Jessica's bullies now follow her on Instagram, but Jessica hasn't forgotten how they made her feel.
'Then you have guys trying to speak to me (on Instagram) and I'm like 'no, I still remember what you did.''
Jessica hasn't had any long-term relationships yet.
'I'm very career oriented so I'm prioritising that,' she said.
'I want to share my journey not just to celebrate how far I've come, but to inspire others,' she said.
'I want to show that no matter where you start, it's possible to rise, grow, and achieve what once felt out of reach.
'If I can do it, so can you.'
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
SBS Australia
20 hours ago
- SBS Australia
Music programs hitting the right note to support youth wellbeing
Whether it's memories of singing or playing the recorder, learning music can begin at an early age. "Well, it depends who you ask but there is a famous quote by a Hungarian ethnomusicologist, composer and educator (Zoltán Kodály) who said 9 months before the birth of the mother (is the age to begin music learning). So I think that sums it up quite nicely. It is never too young. But of course it needs to be age and developmentally appropriate." That's Dr Jason Goopy, a researcher and a music educator who has spent 15 years teaching in Australian primary and secondary schools. He has been trying to connect the dots - and figure out the role that music learning can play in supporting the wellbeing of young people. From the ages of five to 25 - what impact does engagement with music have when it comes to aspects of wellbeing, including emotional regulation, building relationships and promoting positive mental health? Sifting through the research, he helped to identify 423 sources which were then whittled down even further - to keep the research goal in focus. Australia and the UK emerged as the key countries where the most work has been done. "Well what is really interesting is that this is an emerging field. And we did actually do an international scoping review of all the literature globally, but predominantly research is currently situated in Australia and the UK. And that is obviously something that as a global community and a scholarly community - it needs addressing." He says there were clear trends that emerged from his review, published in the peer-reviewed journal Research Studies in Music Education. "The motivation behind this study wasn't necessarily to look at how to create professional musicians. It was how can we be our best selves through learning music. And so the benefits that we're seeing relate to social confidence. Relate to healthy relationships, relate to social cohesion, emotional regulation, identity development. There are also educational benefits, in terms of accomplishment and achievement. And these kind of benefits that are experienced through music we found are directly transferable to other aspects of life. And to those who are most vulnerable in the community, we found that they benefit the most. Achievement in music can translate to achievement in other areas of life very easily." The review also pointed to the factors that make a music learning program effective for the wellbeing outcomes of young people - across different settings, whether in a school or as a community initiative. Tailored and bespoke programs were particularly effective at targeting certain population groups like Indigenous youths, those with a disability; or others from a refugee or migrant background. "There is quite a mix within this scoping review - and they include people who are disengaged in schools, to those who are struggling to connect with the current schooling system. There are also those who are experiencing mental health challenges. There is also included in the study - also music in prisons for young people who are incarcerated and in contact with the criminal justice system. So the whole range of contexts that we have engaged within this particular study, which is why we wanted to go beyond school. Because music is having a powerful influence even beyond school, in the community. But yes, we're finding yes, it's characteristics and properties of music that is making a difference - but also the social aspects of doing music. Music is fundamentally a social practice - and coming together to make music, even beyond listening to music we're finding is having substantial benefits to individuals and their communities." The power of music to help support young people to thrive is something that Dom Brook is deeply acquainted with. "When you get it into shaping your story and having a voice especially for a young person or adolescent who haven't find their purpose or voice, music or lyric writing helps you with your emotions. It helps you have a voice a suppose. Find your sense of purpose and move through some of those maybe troubling emotions - and make sense of them. Music is the counsellor for that." At the age of 17, a second-hand guitar played an important role in helping him to get through some tough times. "I had an upbringing that was all over the place and no father figure. Quite poor. It was the next door neighbour that believed in me. He was throwing out a guitar and wanted to give it to someone who would use it. And it was at that point that I was just getting into finding my voice through music very late in the picture. Never did music in school. So I was about 16, 17. And I paid for a songwriting camp for me to go to. And this camp was one of those lifechanging moments that I came back from this camp knowing that I wanted the voice that I had found, the purpose that I found through music. Something was just sparked inside of me to help others - and change lives through music." More than 20 years ago, he decided to do that with a youth mentoring program, Musicians Making a Difference - also known by its acronym MMAD. The in-person outreach is in New South Wales and Queensland, with online programs extending access nationally. He says the mission is to help at-risk youth find their future direction - whether that be in music or in fields like journalism. "Young people out of juvenile justice refuges, kids that are homeless. Kids even from pretty good families, but they're sorting out stuff. But I would say the majority are at-risk young people. We create this special environment where at MMAD it's family. And where there is freedom from judgement. There is no judgement. It is a place they can be themselves. It is a place where they can find their childlike self again. And find confidence in that and then go onto make their lives remarkable. The funny thing about MMAD is our vision is to see have every young person have someone who believes in them. And we use music because it is such a powerful tool to be able to breakdown those barriers and find what is special about young people - and their journey." The work has been transformative for graduates like Daniel Harvey, these days known by the stage name D Minor. The musical artist found a knack for writing rap lyrics - a skill that was honed when he joined the program at the age of 14. At the time he was referred by a youth counsellor. "I had been through so much at that stage. Foster care, refuge system, being a state ward. And not having a sense of belonging or feeling accepted anywhere. And then meeting MMAD just feeling like I belong someone, feeling that there was a bigger, purpose for me. Just having someone who believes in you - and being able to share my music. Having someone to encourage me through that process. And kind of use that music as a tool and outlet to overcome some hurt and pain, yeah." That included communicating his experience of being homeless at the age of 11. And it took him on stage to audition for Australia's Got Talent in 2019, with an original song entitled 'Concrete Pillow'. That took him in the direction of continuing to cultivate his skills in storytelling. He says the impact it has had on him is almost beyond words. "If someone can listen to my music and they can feel like okay, they can overcome something. I should be able to share that (my story). And that for me is incredible. And especially, when there is a message behind it to raise awareness of the situation. It is quite big - and not something that I ever imagined. But the journey has been incredible." For Jason Goopy, the early experiences people have with music are incredibly powerful. He says the potential in supporting people to thrive has yet to be fully realised. "I think it is time for the federal government in particular is stepping up to make sure that every child has access to a music and arts education, regardless of the postcode, regardless of the family they were born into. It is essential for a complete education. And we're talking about a better, fairer education system. Music has to be part of that. There is no question."
Daily Telegraph
2 days ago
- Daily Telegraph
Forceps delivery error leaves mum with lifelong injuries
Don't miss out on the headlines from Parenting. Followed categories will be added to My News. At 26, April Hagan was healthy, newly married and living abroad in the UK when she found out she was pregnant. It was a planned pregnancy, a hopeful one - the kind of news that comes with wide eyes, nervous laughs and whispered dreams of what life might soon look like. 'My husband and I had been married less than a year, living in England and loving life. We'd met at the gym, we were healthy, happy - world travellers. I felt really ready to become a mum," April said. But that joyful anticipation was quickly overshadowed by a rare and terrifying diagnosis. In her first trimester, April contracted chicken pox. 'It's so uncommon. No one could give me clear answers about what that meant for the baby. All they could say was, 'It'll probably be fine.'' Fortunately, everything was OK and April was relieved that her early scare had a positive outcome. Despite being a first time mum, living away from her support network, April went into the rest of her pregnancy with a blind faith that everything would run smoothly. 'I just had to trust the process, my sister had babies and she was fine, I assumed I would be too.' Want to join the family? Sign up to our Kidspot newsletter for more stories like this. A forceps delivery left April with lifelong injuries. Image: Supplied Disjointed care At 30 weeks, April returned to Australia to be near her family. She was assigned a student midwife in the public system, and while the consistency of that relationship brought some comfort, the rest of her care felt like a revolving door of unfamiliar faces. 'I saw a different doctor or nurse at every appointment. No one seemed to know my story. It was so disjointed.' Despite that, April tried to stay optimistic - especially with her sister, who had recently given birth, reassuring her that everything would be fine. But as her early December due date passed and Christmas crept closer, she started to notice a shift in her care. 'It felt like my pregnancy was an inconvenience. Staff were clearly worried about being short over the holidays. One doctor even said, 'We don't want you going into labour on Christmas - we won't have enough staff.'' By Christmas Day, April was 42 weeks pregnant and incredibly uncomfortable. She was admitted to hospital for induction, and that's when her sense of control began to unravel. RELATED: 'I'm grateful for my traumatic birth' April found it difficult to bond with her son, Leo. Image: Supplied 'They told me I had no choice' The first method of induction - prostaglandin tape - failed to progress labour. April was then told they would insert a balloon catheter. 'I hadn't heard of it before. I asked questions but was told, 'This is the next step, you don't have a choice.' It was so painful and overwhelming, and then they just left me alone in the room, scared and in agony.' One nurse - the only one who seemed to notice her distress - returned quietly and released some of the fluid from the balloon to relieve the pressure. 'She said, 'I'm not supposed to do this,' but she could see how much pain I was in. It helped. It was the only act of true compassion I felt in that whole lead-up.' Then came a moment April will never forget. Still Christmas Day, she was discharged from hospital. Still in pain. Still not in labour. With the balloon catheter in place. 'The underlying tone was 'If your baby comes today, we might not have staff to care for you.' I was terrified. What if I did go into labour at home? What would happen to me?' 'On Boxing Day, it all fell apart' The next morning - Boxing Day - April returned to hospital. The balloon catheter had dilated her cervix, but labour hadn't started. This time, a synthetic oxytocin drip was used to induce her. 'I laboured all day in extreme pain. I eventually had an epidural around 3pm, and by 8pm I started pushing - but nothing was happening.' After two and a half hours of pushing, the room began to fill with unfamiliar faces. April says she didn't know who most of them were - there were no introductions, no explanations. 'It felt like the birth was happening to me, not with me. I had no power, no voice.' She had known throughout her labour that baby Leo was in a posterior position - facing the wrong way - which often makes vaginal birth more difficult. But just before deciding to use forceps – again a decision made with no consultation with April, the team did a quick ultrasound. 'They said, 'Good news - he's turned anterior, so forceps should work.'' Concerned, frightened and with a million questions, April asked the doctor – who she later discovered was a student – about the procedure. 'I asked if there was an increased risk of tearing. She said, 'I'll do the best I can.' That terrified me.' At no point was an episiotomy offered. As first time parents, April and her husband didn't even know this was something they should be advocating for. Reading paperwork later, April says the report read that were no scissors available to perform an episiotomy. She later suspected this was because the student doctor performing the procedure may not have been trained or authorised to do one. The forceps procedure began, but when Leo was born, it was clear he hadn't turned at all. 'He was still posterior. They got it wrong. They used forceps based on an incorrect ultrasound, and it was the wrong technique for that position. That decision changed everything.' RELATED: An emergency birth and eight days without her baby April is now sharing her story to advocate for a National Strategy for the Care and Treatment of Birth Injuries. Image: Supplied. 'I tore all the way through - and haemorrhaged on the table' Leo was delivered with forceps. On the way out, April suffered a severe 3C tear - a tear that extends through to the anal sphincter - and began haemorrhaging. 'They handed me my baby for a moment, and then I was rushed into surgery. I genuinely thought I was going to die.' 'You have in your mind these moments that are going to be so special - and all of a sudden, it's the opposite of special. You're fighting for your life.' 'The pain didn't go away. And no one listened.' Despite the trauma, April says she was told repeatedly that her recovery was 'normal.' 'At six months postpartum, I was still in pain every day. The obstetric team and the hospital physios told me it was normal and I'd get better. But I knew something was more wrong.' April eventually sought private care. A women's health physio confirmed what the hospital had failed to acknowledge: April had sustained lifelong injuries that weren't going to 'get better'. 'They told me I'd need to be careful lifting my baby. I was devastated. And while I was grateful to have my concerns acknowledged, I was furious that my care team had dismissed me.' Two weeks later, April experienced a breakdown with suicidal ideations. She was admitted to a privately funded mother and baby psychiatric unit for a month. 'It wasn't that I had a plan to end my life. I just couldn't see how I could go on. I had a baby who needed me, and a body that wouldn't let me show up for him.' 'That message saved me' After being discharged, April found herself scrolling Facebook late one night searching for people who could relate to her experience. Birth Trauma Australia, founder Amy Dawes messaged her directly. 'She told me, 'You're not alone. I've been through this too.' That message changed everything. I finally felt seen and connected with people who knew what I had been through.' 'This is birth - and it shouldn't be like this' New research released by Birth Trauma Australia this Birth Trauma Awareness Week reveals: 98 percent of people who experience birth trauma report ongoing physical injury or unmanaged pain Over 50 percent cite poor pain management Nearly 1 in 4 report a lack of informed consent People diagnosed more than a year after birth are three times more likely to experience suicidal ideation than those diagnosed early April is now sharing her story to advocate for a National Strategy for the Care and Treatment of Birth Injuries - one that includes: Mandatory postnatal screening Trauma-informed care pathways Funded access to physiotherapy, psychology and surgical care where needed 'We can't always prevent trauma. But we can stop telling women that pain is normal. We can stop dismissing them. I will do everything I can to make sure this doesn't happen to the next generation - especially my daughter.' You can support Birth Trauma Australia's call for a national strategy by signing their petition. For more support, visit or contact PANDA on 1300 726 306. Originally published as 'I was dismissed and broken': Mum backs urgent call for birth trauma reform
SBS Australia
2 days ago
- SBS Australia
New babies born free of devastating genetic diseases using DNA from three people
"Lily was my third daughter. She was born five weeks early, small, but otherwise healthy. Around about seven weeks old, she started to have these absent seizures where she would stop breathing and just sort of stare into space. And then we had the situation where she had two cardiac arrests. And she was rushed into intensive care and put on a life support machine." She's reflecting on her daughter Lily, who was born with a rare genetic condition. Doctors struggled to find answers, and further tests eventually confirmed a life-limiting condition with no treatment: mitochondrial disease. Robin Lovell-Badge is the Head of Stem Cell Biology and Developmental Genetics at The Francis Crick Institute. "Mitochondria are these little energy-producing factories, if you like, which all our cells contain. They have their own DNA, and if that DNA carries a mutation, or is a pathogenic variant, it can cause a whole range of different types of disease according to specific mutation, but these are all a nasty set of diseases where children can suffer a lot and die. It's particularly important for energy-demanding tissues like brain and muscle." Lily's family ultimately brought her home after the doctors told them there was nothing more they could do. And for six precious months, she defied expectations. "And I guess it was during those six months that we really started to understand what mitochondrial disease was, what the implications of it were." Over the ocean from the UK lives Ash Greenhalgh, a 28 year old woman from Brisbane who has Leber Hereditary Optic Neuropathy disease, which affects her vision. Her younger brother also has it, as does her mother. "Leading on from my vision loss when I was a child and kind of growing into my teenage years... it was an illness and a disorder with my eyes that was not visible to the people around me. It was internal, which made it very difficult for people to support me and understand. A lot of the times I would hear things like 'won't glasses fix that', which is not the way it works with LHON." Ash says she was overcome upon hearing that scientists at Britain's Newcastle University and Australia's Monash University have pioneered a treatment aimed at preventing such genetic diseases in children. "I cried. I cried. Obviously it's not something that's happening any time soon, but it means the world... I have a lot of gratitude for Monash, I have a lot of gratitude for the researchers who have put in so many countless hours into the research into doing what was the right thing, and helping the community. Because it is genuinely going to make a lot of difference for a lot of people." The idea behind the technique is to produce children who are born free of devastating genetic diseases, including mitochondrial disease, which is passed down through the mother's line. Robin Lovell-Badge says the method uses DNA from three people - the mother's egg, the father's sperm, and a donor's mitochondria - transferring pieces from inside the mother's fertilised egg into a healthy egg provided by the anonymous donor. "What's happened in this case is that they've used a technique called pronuclear transfer which effectively replaces the bad mitochondria with good mitochondria. You actually swap the nuclear genetic material, rather than move the mitochondria around, but you have a donor egg where you remove the nucleus and you replace it with the nucleus from the patient embryo."
