Take it from someone who has been morbidly obese: this is what overweight people actually need to hear

Another week and another stark warning has been delivered to millennials. This time we have been told in no uncertain terms that we are set to be the fattest generation of Britons ever.

In theory, shifting the pounds is simple. Eat less, exercise more and reap the benefits. However, obesity is far more complex an issue and it cuts to the core of the gross health inequalities that continue to prevail across the UK. Scotland’s food standards chief has predicted that the NHS is at a “tipping point”, with healthy eating targets having been missed for the last 17 years. It’s therefore evident that policy changes alone will not help change habits: we need a different approach.

Six years ago, while our 2012 Olympic athletes were smashing medal targets, I was edging closer to hitting 19 stone. Weight gain had been a continued trend for me during my teenage years, as I simply shrugged off any suggestions that this could impact my health.

The traditional finger-wagging approach from parents, friends or doctors did nothing to alter my eating habits, which got worse when I escaped home and moved to university. Like many students, I found a diet of takeaways and processed food preferable to properly planned meals. And sport? Well, that was something to be watched on television, not to participate in.

That all changed when I finally took to the scales and realised the extent of my weight gain. I was more than obese and the impact of my poor diet became clear: walking to classes would result in a very noticeable warm glow, I had become reclusive in terms of dating and my confidence had hit a low. I knew I had to change but I wanted to change on my terms.

This wasn’t about cutting foods, opting for fad diets or shaming my body. I decided that I would take a positive approach to changing my behaviour and it began with accepting what had gone wrong up until that point. I wouldn’t set myself any specific target – I simply wanted to be happy.

My initial attempt at a run around the university campus left me red in the face, but buzzing with enthusiasm – this was my first encounter with endorphin rush as a result from exercise. I weighed myself every month to track progress but this quickly stopped as the prize of body confidence was worth far more than digits on a screen. While the change in weight took time, the change in my happiness was far more sudden. For a start, dating now seemed like a viable option and large social gatherings stopped causing me anxiety.

The change in my habits culminated in me entering my first half-marathon in 2017. This was the biggest single challenge I had ever set myself and it was both a physical and mental endurance. Upon crossing the finishing line – along with a lot of tears – I knew I had finally achieved what I set out to do all those years ago: I had achieved the confidence to push myself.

It wasn’t my newfound ability to enter a room of strangers without appearing flustered, or a changed relationship with food, that was important; it was the fact that I had finally become happy in my own skin. The previous years of warnings had little impact on me – I knew fine well that eating pizza several times during the week wasn’t the best of ideas, who doesn’t? It was always about changing my mental outlook.

The true extent of my weight loss only became apparent last week when I was weighed during a trip to the doctors – 42 kilograms, or 6.6 stone – but those numbers do not reflect the full story of my change.

I have been asked on numerous occasions what I would say to someone struggling with their weight today, and my answer is simple: you do you. Weight-shaming did little more than result in me continuing bad habits. And contrary to the book shelves filled with self-help books, change is not found in a high-level exercise regime or ditching carbohydrates indefinitely. It’s about looking at yourself positively.

While I may not be about to enter Team GB any time soon, my next half-marathon and maybe a future date or two awaits. That’s more than enough for me.