For years, I thought being overweight was my fault. At primary school, bullies called me ‘thunder thighs’ and in high school I had to wear women’s size 18 trousers because the normal uniform wouldn’t fit me.
I was 16 when my first boyfriend dumped me because I was ‘too big’ – and then proceeded to phone me to clarify that he meant my weight, not my height, although at 5ft 8in I’ve always been quite tall too.
Whenever I went to the doctors, for whatever reason, they would always ask me to step on the scales and then tell me I needed to lose weight. They’d look at me and just assume that I was lazy, or had a bad diet.
But I ate healthily and really did try to exercise – fitness classes, weights, swimming – but it often resulted in pain and injury. My ankles swelled, I’d get intense stabbing pains in my legs when walking up stairs and just kneeling could give me excruciating knife-like pain in my shins.
I worked hard to love myself as I was: I won beauty pageants and worked as a plus-size model, as well as being a TV presenter. Deep down, though, I was frustrated that no matter what I did I couldn’t change my figure, and always believed it was my fault.
Then in 2021 my mother was diagnosed with a hereditary condition called lipoedema when she was 55. Mainly affecting women, lipoedema can be triggered by hormonal changes, such as puberty or pregnancy and is characterised by an abnormal build-up of fat in your legs and, sometimes, arms.
Lipoedema fat is different to ‘normal’ fat, making skin look lumpy and uneven. It’s really common to feel heaviness and pain in the affected areas and, depending on how severe it is, it can affect your mobility and normal day-to-day activities.
Mum had initially gone to the doctor because she was in pain – her job in retail required a lot of standing and she couldn’t fathom why she couldn’t do it any more.
I worked hard to love myself as I was: I won beauty pageants and worked as a plus-size model, as well as being a TV presenter, writes Emily Blake
Emily’s legs before and after. In June 2022, she paid £7,900 to have liposuction to remove the lipoedema on her thighs and in May 2023, she spent another £5,900 on her lower legs
Then 31 and at my largest – a size 22 – I realised I might have it too. I was living with my partner and working for the Office for National Statistics at the time. After going to my GP, I was referred to a local service where I received the same diagnosis as my mum.
While it was a relief to realise the weight I’d been battling with all my life was not my fault, it scared the life out of me that I had an incurable disease that had the potential to rob me of my ability to walk.
While an estimated one in ten women in the UK are affected by lipoedema, there is no cure. At first I was very practical, doing my research and working out what I could do; it only really hit me a few weeks later and I got very down and upset.
There are lifestyle changes that can help relieve some symptoms but unless you can afford a form of liposuction that removes the lipoedema fat, which costs around £6,000 and isn’t available on the NHS, your options are limited. There’s evidence to suggest that if you can reduce the levels of inflammation in the body, you can ease the progression of the disease.
So I started cutting out sugar and discovered the less I ate, the less pain I felt. Now I try to stick to a low-carb or keto diet, which means avoiding sugar – the natural sugars found in fruit as well as refined sugar and those in processed carbohydrates, such as bread and white pasta – and mainly sticking to protein with vegetables or salad.
I also wear prescription compression tights and compression leggings to the gym. And manual lymphatic drainage massage can help too.
The problem is that once the lipoedema is there, you can’t get rid of it or improve it by losing weight. You’ll lose the regular fat, but not the lipoedema. Even people who have gastric bypass surgery to lose weight still have the lipoedema – and losing weight can actually make it more visible.
My research indicated the only thing that could change the appearance of lipoedema was a specialised type of liposuction surgery. I decided to go for it, using money I’d managed to save during Covid.
In June 2022, I paid £7,900 to have liposuction to remove the lipoedema on the front of my thighs and on my inner thighs, and then a year later, in May 2023, I spent another £5,900 to have the same procedure on my lower legs.
At 36, I’m in the best shape of my life – tackling the lipoedema and losing weight has allowed me to enjoy aspects of life that I just couldn’t do before, says Emily
In each case, it was day surgery under a local anaesthetic and gentle sedation, so I was in and out the same day. But the aftercare was an ordeal: the dressings need changing three to four times a day initially, and I had to wear compression leggings constantly for six to eight weeks, then there was all the bandaging and padding underneath. But it was all worth it.
A few years on, the scars are almost invisible, just tiny dots. The pain that I was in has pretty much gone and I’ve been able to do exercise classes like body combat, Pilates, yoga, zumba and dance fit. I’ve also been training hard with weights to build muscle and improve the appearance of my legs.
My lymphatic system seemed to start working more efficiently, too. I noticed that I was growing hair on my thighs for the first time I could remember.
Before, I’d never really had to shave my legs but suddenly the circulation was back and those follicles were getting what they needed to grow.
The operations aren’t a cure or a definitive solution, but they’re a bit of a reset. I’m hoping that if I can manage the inflammation, and slow the progression, I can maintain my mobility.
In December 2024, I started taking Mounjaro after hearing people with lipoedema report that it had been a miracle, not just for weight loss but for reducing the inflammation.
I took it until the prices soared in September last year and have recently started again, this time moving to a low 5mg dose to manage my weight and keep the inflammation at bay.
I’ve lost nearly 6st, going from 18st and a size 18 to just over 12st and a size 12.
At 36, I’m in the best shape of my life. It’s not like I hated the way I looked before – I was curvy and proud – but tackling the lipoedema and losing weight has allowed me to enjoy aspects of life, such as exercise, that I just couldn’t do before.
But the battle isn’t over. I’m saving up to have liposuction on the backs of my legs and my upper arms as well because I’m getting to a point with my weight training where I’ve toned my arms as much as I can.
I can see definition in my shoulders and the tops of my arms, but the lipoedema fat remains on my triceps, hanging down, making me very self-conscious. Even after that, I’ll have to stick to my diet, exercise, massage and compression-wear to stave off the progression of the condition. It’s a lifelong commitment.
I now realise that my beautiful grandmother probably had the condition, too. Told she was simply overweight, she spent most of the time I knew her confined to a chair, in constant pain, wincing with every step she took and believing, right up until she died, that it was all her fault.
Within the family, there was always a reference to ‘the Hudson knees’ (my great-grandmother’s maiden name): large, rounded knees with big legs that all the women on that side of the family seemed to have inherited, a typical symptom of lipoedema.
It’s heartbreaking that she – like so many women – had no idea she was actually suffering from a painful condition that, although it cannot be cured, can be managed. It’s why it’s so important to me to spread the word about lipoedema.
The sooner you’re diagnosed, the sooner you can take steps to manage it.
As told to CLAIRE COLEMAN
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