One night, I went to have dinner and catch up with Jess and her husband (another of my great supporters) Dale.
After a few drinks and the usual chatter, Jess took a serious tone and told me she had something bothering her.
I didn't think for a second that it could be anything to do with me - I worried it was something to do with her health or the kids.
"April - I'm worried about you," she started.
"I know you love my children, and my family loves you dearly, and I want you to be around for a very long time, my love."
I was dumbfounded. What had I done to this woman, my best friend, who had avoided seeing me to stop herself from staying awake at night worrying about my morbid obesity? What a terrible thing for her to worry about.
"I just can't stop thinking about your dad, and your mum, and that you need to do something about your weight," she said, swallowing. "I don't want you to ... die."
This was the wake-up call I needed.
I was shocked to my very core - this woman was worrying that I might be gone soon.
All the people I loved might not see me any more if I drove myself into the ground any more.
She was serious and so relieved that I let her share this fear with me.
I didn't let her see how that made me feel - as always, when talking about my weight I was blasé and didn't let anyone see how easily they could break through my seemingly thick shell to the bleeding heart underneath.
I promised myself I would do something - for myself, but especially for Jessie.