I’m a better mum AT SIZE 22

Sitting on the sofa with my kids, all of us in matching Christmas PJs, I couldn’t stop smiling. ‘It’s time to start afresh,’ I thought – because, for the first Christmas in a long time, I wasn’t wearing black or tugging at my jumper to try to hide my body, nor was I going to pass up on chocolate or a slice of figgy pudding. No, I was finally – after years of hating my body – going to enjoy all the festive fun I’d been missing out on.

I’d always been ashamed of my body and, growing up, felt like the odd one out. My four sisters were tall and