My happiness is not defined
by a number on the scales
My happiness is not defined
by a number on the scales
Ellie Cadwallader-White’s story
Four years ago, I was living in a body that felt less like a home and more like a prison. At size 32/34, I was miserable, unhealthy, and barely scraping by. Food was both my comfort and my punishment, and let’s just say the relationship was anything but healthy. The scales ruled my life.
Every morning, I’d hop on and let them decide if I was going to be miserable or just slightly less miserable that day. Until, one fateful morning, I thought, “You know what? Stuff this!” and packed the wretched things away.
Since then, I’ve lost over 44kg (7 stone, if you prefer the old-school lingo), but here’s the kicker—it’s not just about the weight. I’ve taken back control of my life. I’m no longer defined by the numbers on a scale or the size on a clothing tag.
These days, I’m rocking sizes 22, 20, and even an 18 now and then, with a cheeky size 16 hanging in the wardrobe, ready to make its grand debut. But honestly? The biggest milestone is reclaiming my joy, confidence, and peace of mind.
Now, let’s get one thing straight—I’m 62, and thanks to lipo-lymphoedema, the gym isn’t exactly my idea of a good time. Long walks? Forget it. My lower body has what I lovingly call “plumptiousness” (a delightful blend of plump and scrumptious), and while lipodemic fat and lymphademic fluid aren’t going anywhere, I’ve learned to focus on what I can do.
For me, that’s been changing how I eat and learning to make choices that nourish my body instead of just stuffing it. The difference? Massive.
It’s the little wins that make me grin the most these days. I can now wear a belt—just because I want to. I can paint my toenails without giving myself a hernia and put on my socks on without cutting off my oxygen supply.
Best of all, I can get up out of a chair without being afraid it’ll come with me, wedged fast to my peachy arse and accompanying me everywhere until the end of time.
These might sound like small things to you, but trust me, they’re game-changers. Slimpod has been my lifesaver. After almost four years of “podding,” I’ve come to see this as a journey, not a sprint.
There’s no room for quick fixes here—those days of crash diets and endless self-punishment are over. The ship has well and truly sailed on that nonsense. Instead, I’m playing the long game, focusing on consistency, patience, and kindness to myself.
Speaking of kindness, let me tell you something: cruel self-talk has no place in my life anymore. You can bet your bottom dollar it’s more damaging than any double-fried fish supper with a battered sausage chaser.
These days, I talk to myself like the fabulous human being I am, not like some sort of dieting disaster. If I overeat, so what? Everyone does from time to time—even my naturally slim friends. It’s not the end of the world; it’s just a bump in the road. Reflection, a bit of indigestion, and then we move on.
Food, I’ve discovered, isn’t the enemy. It’s not lurking in the shadows waiting to sabotage me. It’s just food.
Some of it’s massively nutritious, and some of it, well, isn’t. But that’s okay. I aim to eat healthily about 80% of the time, and the rest? Life’s too short not to enjoy the odd Easter egg (or two).
What’s made all the difference is learning to trust the process. As I explain in The Weight’s Over: Take Back Control, Slimpod has given me the tools to change how I think about food and fat loss. Listening to my pods, writing down my daily wins, watching coaching videos, and setting goals have all become second nature. I even take notes—like a proper student of my own life! And slowly but surely, I’ve been unpacking decades of dieting damage and learning to treat my body with the respect it deserves.
It hasn’t all been smooth sailing, of course. Some days, I want to dive headfirst into a packet of Hobnobs. And you know what? Sometimes, I do. But I’ve learned not to catastrophise. Eating a family-size bag of crisps and washing it down with a box of Maltesers might feel like Diet Armageddon in the moment, but in the grand scheme of things? It’s a blip, not a disaster. The human body is clever like that—it doesn’t just pile on the pounds overnight. Thank goodness!
What’s even more liberating is knowing I’m not chasing some arbitrary scale weight anymore.
The scales are still packed away, and they can stay that way for all I care. My progress isn’t measured in pounds or kilos; it’s in how I feel, how I move, and the fact that I’ve reclaimed my life. My body tells me when it’s happy, and I listen.
There’s been a lot of unlearning over the past few years. Forget counting calories—it’s not about “calories in versus calories out.” It’s about quality. Quality food, quality nutrients, and quality fuel for my body. When you nourish your body properly, it rewards you. Simple as that.
For anyone starting out on this journey, here’s my advice: RELAX. Seriously, take a deep breath. Quick fixes are a myth, and fat loss is not a race. Your body needs time to adjust, to trust that you’re not going to starve it again, and to let go of those fat cells. Be consistent, be patient, and above all, be kind to yourself.
I’m still learning, still discovering things about myself, and still celebrating the wins—big and small. Four years ago, I never could have imagined I’d feel this good. Back then, I was stuck in a size 32/34 body that I didn’t recognise or love. Now, I’m wearing smaller sizes, feeling healthier, and finally living life on my own terms. And the best part? I know there’s so much more to come.
If you’re wondering whether you can do this too, let me tell you—you absolutely can. Trust the process, trust your body, and trust yourself. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it. And who knows? One day, you might be featuring in a book like The Weight’s Over: Take Back Control!
