‘I'll be slim for CHRISTMAS!'

That was a promise Tracey Clarke, 57, made to herself after she became a grandmother and realised the excuses had to stop

- FRANCESCA WOODSTOCK

Sitting at the table on Christmas Day, I felt so lucky to be surrounded by my family. It was 2017, and although my three children had grown up and had lives of their own, we’d gathered together at mine and my husband Mark’s home in Saltash, Cornwall.

This year was extra special, as our eldest daughter, Jamie-Leigh, then 25, had brought along our first grandchild, Charlie, then nine months. I adored being a grandmother, and having a baby in the family reminded me how magical Christmas was. But although I loved playing with my grandson, my body was riddled with aches and pains, and even though I was only 53, I felt older. At 17st 8½lb and a size 22, my weight didn’t help, and as I piled extra roast potatoes on to my plate of turkey with all the trimmings, I promised myself that by next Christmas, I’d be slim.

I hadn’t always been big. As a child, I’d been brought up on home-cooked, balanced meals. At 16, I joined the police cadets, which kept me active, and at 6ft tall, I wore a size 14. But after landing an office job at 18, my lifestyle changed.

Sitting at a desk all day, I’d graze on chocolate and cakes, and for lunch, I’d have prepacked sandwiches with crisps and more chocolate.

I never weighed myself, but by the time I’d reached my 20s, I was wearing a size 22-24 and lived in baggy black dresses that swamped me. In 1990, I got engaged to