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!
My Neighbors Left a Note That Shattered My Heart — My Granddaughter Discovered It and Gave Them a Learning Experience
The music I played on my piano was my last link to my late husband. But cruel neighbors shattered that joy with a hurtful message on my wall. When my granddaughter found out, she made things right, leaving those entitled neighbors scratching their heads.
“Oh, Jerry, did you love it today, darling?” I asked softly, the last notes of “Clair de Lune” filling my cozy living room as my fingers lifted from the ivory piano keys. My eyes fixed on the framed photo of my late husband, Jerry. His kind eyes seemed to twinkle back at me, just as they had for over fifty years of our marriage…
Willie, my tabby cat, stretched lazily near my feet, purring contentedly. I reached down to scratch behind his ears, feeling the familiar ache in my chest as I carefully lifted Jerry’s photo.
“I miss you so much, darling. It’s been five years, but sometimes… sometimes it feels like yesterday.”
Pressing a gentle kiss to the cool glass, I whispered, “Time for dinner, my love. I’ll play your favorite before bed, okay? ‘Moon River,’ just like always.”
As I set the frame back down, I could almost hear Jerry’s warm chuckle. “You spoil me, Bessie,” he’d say, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I shuffled towards the kitchen, pausing to look back at the piano, my constant companion these past 72 years.
“What would I do without you?” I murmured, running my hand along its polished surface.
That night, as I lay in bed, I whispered into the darkness, “Goodnight, Jerry. I’ll see you in my dreams.”
The next morning, I was lost in Chopin’s “Nocturne in E-flat major” when a sharp rap on my window startled me. My fingers stumbled, the music cutting off abruptly.
A red-faced man glared at me through the glass. He was my new neighbor.
“Hey, lady!” he shouted, his voice muffled. “Cut out that racket! You’re keeping the whole neighborhood awake with your pathetic plinking!”
I stared at him, shocked. “I… I’m so sorry,” I stammered, even as a small voice in my head protested. It was barely 11 a.m., and none of my other neighbors had ever complained before.
The man stomped away, leaving me trembling. I closed the lid of the piano, my sanctuary suddenly feeling tainted.
The next day, I closed all the windows before sitting down to play. The music felt muffled and constrained, but I hoped it would keep the peace.
I was barely ten minutes into Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” when my doorbell rang insistently. With a heavy heart, I answered it.
A woman with pinched features glared at me. “Listen here, old lady,” she spat. “The grave’s calling, and you’re still banging on that piano? Cut the noise, or I’ll report you to the HOA!”
It was only then that I understood she was my new neighbor’s wife.
I felt like I’d been slapped. “I… I closed all the windows,” I said weakly.
“Well, it’s not enough!” she snapped, turning on her heel. “Quit making noise with your stupid piano!”
I slumped against the door frame, tears welling in my eyes. “Oh, Jerry,” I whispered. “What do I do?”
I could almost hear his voice, gentle but firm. “You play, Bessie. You play your heart out. Don’t stop… for anyone.”
But as I sat at the piano, my fingers hovering over the keys, I couldn’t bring myself to press down.
Days passed, and I tried everything. I taped cardboard over the windows, played only in short bursts, even considered moving the piano to the basement where it might not be heard.
But nothing seemed to satisfy my new neighbors, the Grinches, as I’d started calling them in my head.
The thought of being separated from my cherished instrument, even by a flight of stairs, made my heart ache. This piano wasn’t just an object; it was an extension of my soul, a living connection to Jerry and our life together.
Forgetting about those bothersome neighbors for a moment, I lost myself in the music as I played the piano that night.
The next morning, I stepped outside to tend to my small herb garden. The sight that greeted me stopped me cold.
The cruel words “SHUT UP!” were spray-painted across the wall in angry red letters.
I sank to my knees and wept. “Jerry, I can’t do this anymore.”
That day, for the first time in decades, I didn’t touch my piano.
As night fell, I sat in Jerry’s armchair, clutching his photo. “I’m so sorry, my love. I just don’t have the strength to fight anymore.”
The shrill ring of the telephone startled me from my thoughts. I fumbled for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Mom? It’s me,” my son Jacob’s warm voice filled the line. “How are you doing?”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “Oh, I’m fine, sweetie. Just a quiet day at home.”
There was a pause. “Mom, you don’t sound fine. Is everything alright?”
I sighed, debating whether to burden him with my troubles. “It’s nothing, really. Just… some issues with the new neighbors.”
“Issues? What kind of issues?”
I found myself spilling everything… the complaints, the threats, the vandalism.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, honey. I feel so… lost.”
“Oh, Mom, why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have helped.”
“I didn’t want to worry you. You have your own life, your own problems.”
“Mom, you’re never a burden. Never. Your music has brought joy to so many people over the years. Remember all those Christmas parties? The school recitals you played for? You’re not a nuisance… you’re a treasure.”
“Listen, I’m going to call Melissa. She’s closer. Maybe she can come check on you. And we’ll figure this out together, okay?” Jacob finished.
As I hung up the phone, I felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe I wasn’t alone in this after all.
Days crawled by. My piano sat untouched, gathering dust. I felt like a part of me was withering away.
One evening, a loud knock startled me from my melancholy. I opened the door to find my granddaughter Melissa standing there, her face glowing with a warm smile.
“Surprise, Nana!” she exclaimed, enveloping me in a tight hug.
As she pulled back, her eyes widened in horror. “Nana, who did this to your wall?”
I burst into tears, the whole story spilling out between sobs. Melissa’s expression darkened with each word.
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