Strong enough to care, brave enough to choose myself: How Slimming World helped mum of additional needs child

Slowly and quietly, it settled in. We didn’t fit anywhere. Playgroups, social circles, casual conversations with other parents—all of it came with an unspoken reminder that our life didn’t follow the expected script. And over time, I stopped trying to belong.

I prioritised my child completely, instinctively, relentlessly. Every decision revolved around him—his needs, his appointments, his emotional safety. Somewhere along the way, I began making excuses for why I couldn’t look after myself physically or mentally. There was no time. No energy. No space. Caring became my entire identity, and everything else—especially me—fell to the bottom of the list.

Food became my comfort and my reward. It was how I soothed myself after hard days and long nights. It was how I coped when I felt unseen, unheard, and emotionally depleted. In a life where so much felt out of my control, food was reliable. Predictable. Available.

I didn’t lose seven stone because I wanted to be thinner. I lost seven stone because I needed to live.

As a parent carer, your life is measured differently. Not in dress sizes or neatly filtered milestones on social media, but in appointments attended, battles fought, nights survived, and energy constantly rationed. You learn very quickly that your body is no longer just yours; it becomes the vehicle that carries your child through each day. And for a long time, I ignored that truth.

I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and running on autopilot. I told myself I didn’t have time to think about my health. There were bigger priorities. There was always tomorrow.

But tomorrow kept getting further away.

Being overweight didn’t just affect how I looked; it affected how I lived. I was breathless, in pain, and permanently tired. Everyday tasks felt harder than they should have. I struggled physically and mentally to keep up with the relentless demands of caring. And beneath it all sat a quiet but constant fear—fear of what would happen to my child if I wasn’t here, if I became seriously ill, if my body failed before I did.

Then that fear became impossible to ignore.

After suffering a knee injury, I was told I needed surgery—but also that I needed to lose weight before it could happen. For the first time, my ability to fulfil my caring role was directly at risk. I couldn’t push through it. I couldn’t ignore it. That moment became my turning point.

Joining Slimming World was never about chasing a number on the scales. It was about survival. About learning how to fuel myself properly for the role I already had. It was about realising that caring for myself wasn’t selfish—it was essential. The plan gave me structure when my life felt chaotic, and community when I felt invisible. It taught me that food could support me, not numb me. Changing my mindset was the key to my seven-stone success.

Losing seven stone didn’t happen overnight. It happened one choice at a time, alongside meltdowns, hospital visits, sleepless nights, and the relentless emotional labour that comes with being a parent carer. Some weeks I barely scraped through. Some weeks the scales didn’t move. But I did.

As the weight came off, something else shifted. I gained energy. Patience. Resilience. I could move more easily, think more clearly, and show up more fully. I wasn’t just surviving my days anymore—I was participating in them.

The biggest transformation, though, was internal. I stopped seeing myself as an afterthought. I realised that my child doesn’t just need my time; they need my health. They need me strong, present, and here for the long haul. They need me to model what it looks like to value yourself, even when life is hard.

There is a dangerous narrative around parent carers—that we must sacrifice everything, including ourselves. That burnout is inevitable. That neglecting our own needs is proof of love. But burnout doesn’t make us better carers. Ill health doesn’t make us more devoted. Martyrdom is not a badge of honour.

Losing seven stone was an act of defiance against that narrative. It was me saying: I matter too.

I’m still a parent carer. Life is still unpredictable. Some days are still overwhelming. But now I face them in a body that supports me instead of holding me back—a body I’ve learned to respect.

This journey was never about perfection. It was about sustainability. About choosing health not because I owe it to society, but because my family—and I—deserve it.

That belief led me to take another brave step: I am now a Slimming World Consultant. Supporting others on their journeys feels like a natural extension of my own. The people I meet are more than members; they become an extended family, and the level of mutual support is extraordinary.

I run groups on Tuesdays at 6.30pm at Vandyke Upper School and cover Thursdays at Clipstone Brook Lower School at 5.30pm and 7pm. You can contact me (Sarah) on 07916028418. These spaces are built on understanding, compassion, and real life—because that’s what change actually requires.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: you don’t have to wait until you hit breaking point to take care of yourself. Your health is not optional. It is the foundation that allows everything else to stand.

And sometimes, choosing yourself is the most loving thing you can do for everyone else.