Nikki Weber from America is only 34 years old, but she has weighed a lot since childhood, devouring cakes and burgers without thinking about the consequences.
When the girl grew up, she realized that she had to lose weight and tried to go on strict diets. But every time she broke down, and attacked sweet and fatty foods. And as soon as she began to weigh 650 lbs, she realized that she had to change her life.
Then Nikki practically could not walk and get out of bed without someone’s help, so she moved to the house with her parents, who did not consider her daughter’s problem to be something global and did not try to direct her to a healthy lifestyle. They even came up with a special mechanism that lifted food to her on the second floor.
A program called “My whole 661 lbs” came to the rescue. Nikki was invited to participate in the program. The program supports fat people and tries to help them lose weight. The girl underwent surgery to make her stomach smaller, and nutritionists made up a personal diet.
Nikki was very worried, and doubted whether she could restrain herself and whether she would succeed, but her fears were in vain. She pulled herself together and overcame all fears. After the operation she threw off 198 lbs.
Nikki was able to lose 352 lbs in the end, and underwent another operation to remove excess sagging skin, which weighed as much as 55 lbs.
Now Nikki weighs 198 lbs and is not going to stop there, she does physical activity and walks a lot every day. Nikki herself can not yet believe that she managed to lose weight and turn into a beautiful woman with a normal life.
In the gym, Nikki met her future husband Marcus. They fell in love with each other at first sight.
My Stepdaughter Insisted I Reassign All Her Deceased Father’s Possessions into Her Name – I Complied, Yet She Was Unpleased
The emptiness of George’s departure permeates their residence, his presence enduring in the shirt Mariana grips nightly. However, it wasn’t his passing that devastated her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s insistence on inheriting his wealth. When she reluctantly agreed, an unexpected twist left Susan enraged and Mariana strangely content.
Progressing past the death of a dear one is always challenging. At times, I still sense my husband George’s voice echoing in my mind. I awaken holding his cherished shirt, his fragrance still clinging to the material. Yet, as I mourned him, my stepdaughter’s actions… they utterly broke me…
I am Mariana, aged 57, wed to the kindest man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, aged 34, from an earlier marriage.
Our bond with Susan was once good. She addressed me as “Mom” and filled the gap in my heart from not bearing my own children. I never viewed her as “another’s” child. I cherished her as my own daughter, truly.
When Susan wed her chosen partner, George and I were thrilled. But then, everything deteriorated when George received a terminal cancer diagnosis.
Susan’s visits reduced from weekly to monthly, then ceased entirely. She seldom visited her father, occasionally phoning to inquire about his health.
One day, she posed a question that tore me apart. “How long does he have left?”
Clutching the phone tightly, my voice shook. “Susan, your father isn’t an item with an expiration date.”
“I just need to know, Mom. I’m swamped, you know that… I can’t come by often,” she responded.
“Swamped?” I repeated, my tone filled with disbelief. “Too swamped to visit your dying father?”
She exhaled deeply. “Look, I’ll attempt to come soon, okay?”
But that “soon” never materialized.
Then, the dreaded day arrived. The hospital informed me that George had passed away peacefully.
I was devastated, barely able to stand as the reality sank in. My beloved George, gone.
Shockingly, Susan didn’t attend his funeral. When I called her, she promptly excused herself.
“I’m expecting, Mom,” she stated, her tone strangely indifferent. “The doctors advised against lengthy travel due to some medical concerns.”
I swallowed hard, holding back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you wish to bid him farewell one last time?”
“I can’t jeopardize my baby’s health,” she curtly replied. “You understand, right?”
I didn’t, not truly, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, dear. Take care.”
As I sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t dismiss the notion that our relationship had irrevocably changed.
Six months post-George’s death, I was startled by a loud knock at my door. Opening it, I saw Susan and her husband Doug, along with a severe-looking man in a suit.
Susan entered without greeting. “Mom, we need your signature on some documents.”
Baffled, I blinked. “Which documents?”
Doug handed me a stack of papers, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. They’re for transferring all the properties into our names.”
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