Jacqueline Adan, a 29-year-old woman from California, has an incredibly inspiring story that serves as a reminder that no dream is too far out of reach when you have determination and the will to succeed. Her journey is proof that with persistence, anything is possible—even when the goal feels impossible at first.
Jacqueline shared her incredible weight loss story on her blog, and it quickly resonated with millions of people, earning her a wide and dedicated following.
Here’s her story in her own words:
“I’m Jacqueline Adan, 29 years old, from California, and I’ve struggled with my weight my entire life.
From a young age, I battled with body image issues and hated the way I looked. As my self-esteem plummeted, my eating habits worsened. I became trapped in a cycle of overeating, feeling guilty afterward, but not knowing how to break free. No matter what diets I tried, I always gained the weight back, often with extra pounds added on.
I was constantly preoccupied with food and my body, and I was tired of living that way. In college, I completely gave up on dieting. I just wanted to experience a “normal” college life, so I ate whatever everyone else ate without concern.
But everything changed in 2011, just before my 25th birthday. My boyfriend, Kevin, and my sister, Jenny, suggested a trip to Disneyland, a place I’d always dreamed of visiting.
But when we arrived, my excitement quickly turned to frustration. I was so out of shape that I could barely walk through the gates without needing to rent a wheelchair. I felt humiliated and ashamed that my weight had gotten to a point where I couldn’t even enjoy the things I loved.
When I tried to go on a ride with my family, I realized I wouldn’t even fit on the turnstile. That moment was heartbreaking, and I couldn’t stop crying. But it was also a turning point. I knew then that I had to change. I was determined to get my life back.
A few weeks after that trip, in February 2012, I made a phone call to Jenny Craig. The moment I stepped on the scale and saw the number, I broke down in tears. But after wiping my eyes, I declared, ‘Okay, I can do this.’ I set a goal to lose 100 pounds, and I was determined to see it through. This time, I knew I couldn’t let anything stop me.
With the help of Jenny Craig, my family, and my friends, I lost 100 pounds in just one year. It was hard, but the results were incredible.
My next trip to Disneyland was different. I could fit on every ride. By 2013, I had lost 200 pounds, and I felt unstoppable.
But even though I had made great progress, I still faced challenges. I struggled to get enough calories, which made my migraines worse, and the weight loss was still hard. But I refused to give up. I started experimenting with new meals and learned to remind myself that eating wouldn’t undo my progress. Over time, I turned things around.
In January 2015, I joined a boot camp at “Fit For Life Solutions,” and I absolutely loved it!
Though I currently weigh around 350 pounds, I’m still working hard to maintain my health. This journey hasn’t been without its struggles, including issues with rashes, neck and back pain, and headaches from excess skin. I’m recovering from my first skin removal surgery, but I’m staying positive and focused on the future.
I still have a long way to go, but I’m proud of the progress I’ve made. I no longer feel ashamed of my body. I no longer need a wheelchair to enjoy places like Disneyland, and I no longer worry about fitting on rides.
In fact, my family jokingly says that I’ll have a destination wedding where I’ll skip the bridal gown and exchange vows in a white designer bikini instead.
As Disney says, ‘Anything is possible; all you need is a little bit of confidence, trust, and fairy dust.’ With determination and belief in ourselves, there’s no limit to what we can achieve.”
Jacqueline’s story is a powerful reminder that with the right mindset and support, we can overcome any obstacle.
Let’s celebrate her success by sharing this inspiring story with our family and friends!
I GOT A CALL FROM MY MOTHER AND HER FIRST WORDS WERE, “PLEASE, SAVE ME FROM YOUR SON!”
The phone call was a jolt, a cold splash of dread that ripped through the quiet of my afternoon. My mother’s voice, usually a warm, familiar melody, was a panicked whisper, a desperate plea. “Please, come save me from him!” she cried, the line abruptly going dead.
My son, Michael, had volunteered to spend the summer with her, a surprising turn of events. He’d always been a city kid, resistant to the quiet charm of my mother’s small-town life. But this year, he’d insisted, offering to take care of her, to give her caregiver a break.
My mother, fiercely independent despite her disability, refused to leave her house or move into assisted living. Michael’s offer seemed like a win-win, a chance for him to prove his newfound maturity, a break for me.
The first week had been idyllic. Michael was cheerful on the phone, regaling me with stories of fishing trips and local festivals. But a nagging unease had crept in when he consistently deflected my requests to speak with my mother, claiming she was busy or asleep.
Now, this phone call, a desperate cry for help, confirmed my worst fears. I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my keys, my heart pounding against my ribs, and sped towards my mother’s town.
The drive was a blur, a frantic race against time. The familiar landmarks of my childhood blurred past, each mile a torturous delay. As I pulled into my mother’s street, a sense of dread settled over me. The house, usually a beacon of warmth and light, stood dark and silent, its paint peeling, its once vibrant garden overgrown and neglected.
I parked the car and rushed to the front door, my hand trembling as I turned the knob. The door creaked open, revealing a scene that made my blood run cold.
The house was a disaster. Furniture was overturned, dust motes danced in the single beam of moonlight filtering through a grimy window, and a strange, acrid smell hung in the air.
“Mom?” I called out, my voice echoing through the silent house. “Michael?”
I moved through the living room, my footsteps muffled by the thick layer of dust on the floor. The kitchen was a scene of chaos, dishes piled high in the sink, food rotting on the counter.
Then, I saw her. My mother was slumped in her wheelchair, her head resting on the armrest, her body still.
“Mom!” I cried, rushing to her side. I gently shook her shoulder, and her eyes fluttered open.
“Oh, darling,” she whispered, her voice weak. “He’s gone. He took everything.”
“Who, Mom? Michael?”
She nodded, her eyes filled with fear. “He changed, darling. He… he wasn’t the boy I knew. He became obsessed with… with things. He kept asking about your father’s old coin collection, and your grandmother’s jewelry.”
I helped her sit up, and she continued, “He said he needed to ‘make things right’ and that we were holding him back. He stopped letting the caregiver in, and he wouldn’t let me call you. He said he was taking care of me, but he was just… waiting.”
“Waiting for what, Mom?”
“I don’t know, darling. I woke up this morning, and he was gone. He took the coins, the jewelry, even my old locket. He left me here, alone, in the dark.”
I looked around the ravaged house, the empty spaces where precious heirlooms once sat, and a wave of anger washed over me. Michael, my son, had betrayed my trust, had abandoned his grandmother, had stolen from her.
I called the police, my voice trembling with rage. As I recounted the events of the past few weeks, a sense of disbelief settled over me. How could my son, the boy I had raised with love and care, have turned into this?
The police searched the house, documenting the damage, taking my mother’s statement. They promised to investigate, to find Michael, to bring him to justice.
As I sat beside my mother, holding her frail hand, I knew that the summer had taken a dark turn, a turn that would forever change our lives. I didn’t know what had happened to my son, or what had driven him to this act of betrayal. But I knew that I would find him, and I would make him answer for what he had done.
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