As I wrote in Sandra’s book The Weight’s Over: Take Back Control, anxiety and stress ruled my life for years. I was often too afraid to leave the house, trapped in an emotionally abusive relationship, and had become a shadow of my former self.

The turning point came 20 years ago when I had a severe panic attack at a Madonna concert. Since then, I’d been living a half-life, avoiding anything that might trigger another attack. I stopped going to gigs, theatres, and even the cinema.

The anxiety was so severe that I once stood outside a supermarket, too terrified to go in because what I needed was at the back of the shop. The thought of having a panic attack far from the exit was paralysing. But things changed dramatically when I discovered a new approach to managing my well-being.

Slimpod wasn’t just about losing weight; it was about reclaiming my life.

Over the past year, I’ve done more than I have in the last two decades. I hadn’t been on an airplane for 13 years, but I started small with a flight from Dublin to Kerry. Once my confidence had grown, I went to an indoor Liam Gallagher concert.

It was a huge moment for me. I was a little nervous, but, for the first time in 12 years, I wasn’t constantly checking the exits. The stadium was packed, but I stayed calm and enjoyed the show. That’s a massive win for me—something I never thought I could do again.

What life was like before Slimpod feels like a distant, darker memory now. For years, I thought I was coping. I had my “safe zones,” places I could go where I knew I wouldn’t have a panic attack. But I wasn’t really living. If someone suggested going to a concert or on a trip, my immediate reaction was, “No, I can’t.”

The fear always won. That fear had its roots in one moment—a panic attack I suffered at a Madonna concert 20 years ago. I fainted, crushed in a crowd with only one narrow exit. That night changed everything.

From then on, I avoided anything that seemed even remotely unsafe. Supermarkets became overwhelming. The thought of being far from an exit filled me with dread. I stopped going to cinemas, theatres, even family events. Every decision I made was controlled by fear. I told myself, “I’m okay with my small world,” but deep down, I wasn’t. I’d become a shell of my former self.

Slimpod started as a way to lose weight. I wanted to feel good for my daughter’s confirmation. But it turned into something much bigger.

Slowly, I began to realise that I could do more than I ever thought possible. Little wins started to build up. One day, I completed the “Darkness into Light” walk for a local cause.

The thought of being in a crowd terrified me, but there was this voice in my head saying, “You can do this.” And I did.

That small victory gave me the courage to take bigger steps. I started saying “yes” to things I would’ve automatically rejected before.

Last year, I took my first flight in over a decade. I started small—a short hop from Dublin to Kerry—but even that was a huge milestone. After that, I thought, “What else can I do?”

Now I’ve flown all over, with each trip felt like breaking free from invisible chains that had held me back for so long. I can’t even describe the joy of boarding that first flight. I’m no longer afraid to live.

And the concerts? That’s another victory. For years, I avoided crowded venues, replaying that awful night at the Madonna gig in my mind. But since Slimpod, I’ve attended several concerts, including Liam Gallagher last night. The stadium was packed, and yes, I felt a little nervous.

But I wasn’t consumed by fear. I didn’t spend the whole night scanning for exits. Instead, I enjoyed myself. That’s a win I never imagined I’d achieve.

Slimpod hasn’t just transformed my confidence; it’s changed how I see myself. I exercise daily now, even if it’s just five minutes in the morning while the kettle boils. It sets the tone for my day. I eat when I’m hungry and stop when I’m full. It sounds simple, but it’s a huge shift for me. In the past, I ate out of habit or to numb my emotions. If I was stressed or upset, I’d hide away in my room with a takeaway.

Now, I choose what I eat consciously. If I want a treat, I enjoy it without guilt. And the result? I’ve dropped two dress sizes and feel healthier than ever.

Of course, there are still hard days. Recently, I was feeling confident after getting my hair and nails done. I ran into an older man who knew my parents, and while he was full of compliments, he also told me I needed to lose weight. His words stung. For a moment, I felt deflated, like all the progress I’d made didn’t matter.

But then I thought about everything I’ve achieved in the past year and realized that his opinion didn’t define me. I got dressed, tucked my top into my jeans, and went out feeling proud of myself. The next day, I was on a plane to Paris with my daughters. That’s my win.

Looking back, I can see how my anxiety affected not just my confidence but also my relationship with food. When life was overwhelming, I turned to food for comfort. I’d start my mornings with biscuits and eat just because it was “time to eat,” not because I was hungry.

If I had a bad day, I’d retreat with a takeaway and a glass of wine. But Slimpod has given me the tools to break that cycle. Now, I listen to my body. I enjoy treats when I want them, but they’re no longer tied to guilt or emotions.

The mindset shift has been the most powerful part of this journey. I write in a gratitude journal every morning—three things I’m thankful for and my intentions for the day. Instead of looking for triggers that might set off my anxiety, I focus on glimmers—small moments of joy. It’s a simple reframe, but it’s made all the difference.

I’m not perfect, and I still face challenges, but the difference now is that I don’t give up.

Slimpod didn’t just help me lose weight; it gave me my life back. I’m no longer defined by fear or anxiety. I’ve learned to trust myself again. I look in the mirror now and actually like the person staring back at me. I’ve started a new job, taken trips I never thought I could, and rediscovered the joy of living.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come, and I can’t wait to see what’s next. For the first time in years, I feel like the real me is back. And that, to me, is everything.