Padding across the sand in my teeny white strapless bikini, I had to admit I felt pretty good. No, in fact I felt amazing, not something I thought I would ever be able to say.

As a morbidly obese mother of three weighing 17 stone 8lbs and bursting out of a size 20, I was sure my bikini days were well and truly behind me.

Now I love shopping for new bikinis to add to my collection, and it’s all thanks to my dad.

Yes it might sound crazy that I have my father to thank for the body of my dreams, but without him I’d still be hiding away in a baggy dresses and leggings.

You see it was my father Simon Clayton, 56, that made it possible for me to wear a bikini again when he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

When he saw how I was struggling to lose the weight and how unhappy and unhealthy I’d become he set me a challenge – to lose the weight and win a boob job.

That’s right. Dad offered to pay for breast surgery he knew I could never afford, but only if I managed to lose the weight first.

With an eye on the prize, suddenly losing weight became easy. It was like somebody had flicked a switch and the pounds I’d struggled to shift melted away.

True to his word, when I reached my goal weight Dad gave me my prize and it changed my life.

Because it wasn’t just a set of boobs he awarded me, it was my confidence back and that to me was the best present a father could ever give his daughter.

Because there was a time I feared I’d never look in the mirror and smile again.

I was 20 when I gave birth to my second son Oliver. I already had Louis, then two, but the new arrival knocked me for six and I was diagnosed with severe postnatal depression.

As the illness took hold, food became my comfort. Instead of losing my baby weight and going back down to the size 12 I’d been before I fell pregnant, I started to grow.

The depression made me lethargic all time and I turned to fizzy drinks and sugary snacks to give me the energy I craved.

‘Can I make you something healthy to eat love,’ Dad would ask gently when he popped round to visit.

But I was already trapped in a cycle of eating junk food because it was the only thing that made me feel better.

My relationship with the boy’s father had been rocky for a while, but when we finally decided to split food became my only crutch.

I’d ‘treat’ myself to take away meals to make life easier and binge on family bags of crisps and bars of chocolate.

At just 5ft 1ins tall it didn’t take long for the weight to pile on, in fact I barely recognized the podgy round woman staring at me in the mirror.

‘I look like a cannon ball,’ I moaned to Dad in my baggy size 20 dress. He’d raised me and my siblings single- handed after splitting with mum so we’d always been close.

But even he couldn’t help me now.

I continued to gorge on fatty food and junk until there was barely any break from eating through out the day.

One day I took the boys out for a walk and bumped into an old friend. I noticed her eyes fall to my stomach and a smile creep across her lips.

‘I didn’t know you were expecting again,’ she beamed excitedly.

‘Um, er, I’m not pregnant,’ I stammered, trying to make light of her mistake.

Poor girl, she looked mortified, but it wasn’t her fault. I did look pregnant.

‘Perhaps you should try going to the gym,’ Dad gently urged when I told him what had happened.

He wasn’t being mean. Like any parent, he just wanted his child to be happy and healthy and he knew I could be neither while I was so overweight.

My youngest son was 18 months old when I started suffering from pins and needles in my hands and feet and joint pain.

I made an appointment with my GP.  I weighed 17st 8lbs. ‘ It’s because you are morbidly obese Georgina,’ he told me in no uncertain terms. ‘ You need to lose weight.’

I fled in tears. I’d been burying my head in the sand about my weight and the truth hurt.

I vowed to slim but every time I managed to give up junk for a few days and lost a few pounds it went straight from my bust.

‘It’s not fair,’ I wailed to my sisters.  The only part of me that looked OK was my bust and losing any weight would ruin that.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Dad chipped in. ‘If you lose all the weight I’ll pay for you to get your boobs done.’

‘What?,’ I gasped. ‘ Do you mean it Dad?’ ‘ Of course,’ he smiled, ‘I just want you to be happy again love.’

It meant I no longer had any excuses and swung straight into action. I stopped buying fizzy drinks and sipped water or green tea and instead of take away meals I cooked fresh vegetables and fish.

Instead of sweets I munched pieces of fruit and sometimes a yogurt too.

As I feared my voluptuous bust ebbed away. But I only had to think about Dad’s offer to keep on track.

Soon my clothes were swamping me. I was a size 14 when I met landscape gardener Eliot * in a bar in 2010.

When I fell pregnant with my third baby I vowed not to give up healthy eating. In fact I barely put on a pound as I gained baby weight but continued to lose fat at the same time.

The when Finely was born in 2011 I started running and working out at the gym. By the time I married Eliot in Mexico in 2012 I was a size eight and eight stone.

I wanted to prove to Dad that I could keep the weight off for good before claiming my prize, so when I said ‘ I do’ it was with special padded cups sewn into my strapless dress.

Well, my bust had now withered to a 32AA. But I didn’t want to go under the knife until Finely was old enough not to have to be carried.

By June 2013 I was ready. ‘ Well done love, you deserve it,’ Dad smiled when I finally booked my operation with Transform.

My new 32D boobs cost Dad £3995 but he assured me it was worth every penny to see me happy and more importantly healthy again.

‘They’re amazing.’ I cried when the bandaged came off. I finally had a body to be proud of and it was all thanks to Dad.

Unfortunately I split with Eliot* earlier this year, but thanks to Dad and my new body I’m ready to face the future.

I know most girls think their father is the best in the world, but mine really is.

For more information about Transform visit www.transforminglives.com or call 0800 655 6406.