Since I lost more than two and a half stone last year by injecting the popular fat jab Mounjaro, hardly a day goes by without someone telling me how well I look.I’m not going to lie, I love it.Last summer, my confidence was off the scale as I strutted around the hotel swimming pool clad in a bikini at the age of 68.No longer did I awkwardly scoop up the towels around me to ensure that every wobbly bit was covered before I stood up from the sun-lounger. Gone were the head-to-toe tent-like kaftans I wore to conceal every inch of my body.You may not think two and a half stone is that big a deal, but when you are a diminutive 5ft tall, it’s life-changing. I believe that the shorter you are, the easier it is to put weight on and the harder it is to lose. Excess weight literally has nowhere to hide.I’m also proud of how well I have kept the weight off since I stopped injecting myself in October last year. At least once a week, someone still comments on my weight and asks the question: ‘Are you still on the jabs?’And the answer has always been a firm and honest ‘no’ because, most of the time, with my newly slender body as motivation, I’ve not found it particularly hard to eat well, exercise occasionally and always walk the dogs myself.But twice a year it is a challenge: at Christmas (who doesn’t find that hard?) and during the summer holidays. Before Mounjaro, Nadine was 'quite a few pounds over 9st', which had nudged her weight into the overweight category Now her 'confidence is off the scale' - last summer, she strutted around the hotel swimming pool in a bikini at the age of 68Christmas may have stronger associations with rich, fattening food, but I am finding the summer far trickier, largely because the willpower has to last a lot longer.The invitations increase, and the fridge in the garage fills with rosé, beer and flavoured tonic water, ready for the regular Friday evening drinks parties I love to host. Then there’s the travelling, where of course enticing food is all part of the experience.When I stopped jabbing, I set myself a target: that one year later – by this coming October 2026 – I would be the same weight of 8st 12lb. And I would do it through willpower alone.That’s still my goal, but really, I want to do a bit better than that and get down to just 8st 7lb.However, as the first heatwave hit, I became more than a little nervous about the task in hand. Over six weeks, my diary contained a wedding; a big anniversary party; the family holiday in Cornwall with my daughters, granddaughter, family friends and lots of children; my own holiday, a long weekend away in Seville; plus a handful of drinks parties.What’s more, when the sun is shining and one of your close friends is the legendary socialite Nicky Haslam, those Friday night drinks are often repeated on a Sunday morning, too, albeit at his house.Honestly? I barely have a day off.To compound it all, I’ve been renovating my new cottage, which means I haven’t had a kitchen for four months and my life has been mildly chaotic to say the least. When I stopped jabbing, I set myself a target: that one year later – by this coming October 2026 – I would be the same weight of 8st 12lb. And I would do it through willpower alone, writes Nadine DorriesFor weeks I’ve shared my home with gardeners, plumbers, electricians, decorators and a superb builder. It feels as though they’ve been here so long, I should list them on my self-assessment tax return as dependents.Meal planning has been non-existent. My kitchen fridge has been attached to a super-long extension lead and placed in a shed, but I’ve barely used it. Instead it’s been commandeered for the storage of various revolting energy drinks, milk for the endless cups of tea the workers consume and Gregg’s sausage rolls.My superfood nutty salad wasn’t comfortable sharing that space. Hence, it’s been the perfect excuse to spend more time in coffee shops and restaurants, which I love doing.In fact, I’ve practically lived in them. The best coffee shop in my nearest local town knows my complicated coffee order and has it ready in the time it takes me to walk from the car park to the counter, where the cookie jars are provocatively lined up before me.Have you ever had an oaty, buttery Anzac cookie? If not, you haven’t lived. I, meanwhile, have lived the full experience for all of you and ate one every day for breakfast for two whole weeks until I had a word with myself. I then moved onto almond croissants, until one of my daughters decided to have a word with me, too.‘The French eat croissants every day and they are all skinny,’ I told her.She insisted the French only eat croissants at weekends, but that cannot possibly be true since they bake so many every day.Still, she was obviously concerned that I’d been putting the weight back on, with all the subsequent health risks which have afflicted me in the past, including pre-diabetes, high cholesterol and fatty deposits on my liver.It’s not just the cafe. My local pub has got to know me so well, I have my own table automatically allocated when I book online. The waiter knows my drinks and food order without him asking me. I’ve eaten more steak and frites in the past three months than I have in my entire life.It’s been noticed by my friend Robert, who often joins me. ‘You eat here a lot, don’t you?’ he said the other day. ‘Do you want me to starve?’ I replied. But starving is one thing I have not been doing.Suddenly, my jeans became tight. Literally overnight.I knew then that I had been in freefall, and the building work was just an excuse.I stepped on the scales and the inevitable was there, the big needle heading in the wrong direction. I was quite a few pounds over 9st. I checked my BMI: it had nudged back into the overweight category.I felt like a total failure. Yes the renovation has been a big project, which has left me out of sorts with myself and everyone around me.For weeks I haven’t known where anything is, not even my passport. I’ve been stressed by the mess and being asked to make a dozen decisions a day knowing that a wrong decision would cost me a great deal of money.But I had to hold myself accountable. As I contemplated the reality of the scales, my mood wasn’t great and nor was I.So I looked at my diary again. Even if I got a grip immediately, how could I enjoy my summer trips and not exacerbate the weight gain? The big buffet breakfasts, the tasting menus in the evening, the poolside club sandwiches? My October goal twinkled on the horizon – and then disappeared in a puff of icing sugar.It was on a spa day with three friends one scorching Sunday when a solution was presented to me.Full disclosure, all four of us have been on the Mounjaro weight-loss journey – but one friend has done especially well. That day she announced that since she’d lost 4st, she hadn’t put a single ounce back on.‘How on earth have you managed that? I asked her. Everyone has a couple of pounds bounce back when they finish, after all.And then she dropped the M bomb (by which I mean M-for-Mounjaro maintenance). My friend takes 1.5mg of Mounjaro – less than the minimum regular dose – every week in order to dampen the food noise and maintain the weight loss.‘The doctor has told me to take 2.5mg, but I don’t because I manage fine on a 1.5mg dose,’ she told me. ‘It keeps the cost [which can be upwards of £200 a month] right down and it works.’ She went on to explain that she still eats three meals a day, but on the three days after she injects, she eats her meals off side plates because that’s all she feels like eating. Four days before her next dose is due, she eats normal portions.‘Why wouldn’t I continue?’ she reasoned. ‘I’ve got a heart condition and the doctor thinks it’s the best thing for me. But even if I didn’t have a heart condition, I’d do it.’That’s when I realised here was the answer to surviving the summer socialising, the holidays and my lack of kitchen. A micro-dose of Mounjaro.My doctor was happy to prescribe the jab because I was back in the overweight category on the BMI scale.I had my first jab on the morning of the family holiday. We were off to Cornwall where it culled all the usual temptations and confirmed that this is how I could survive any disruption to my routine in the future, whether it’s a renovation or a holiday or Christmas.If Mounjaro works, why shouldn’t those of us who want to manage our weight in the short term make use of it? I’d much rather nip a problem in the bud and use a low dose for a few weeks to lose half a stone than face a bigger problem and health issues further down the line.I want to stay slim because I am vain and am more confident when I’m slender than when podgy.Never a truer word was spoken than when Kate Moss said: ‘Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.’Admitting you require a maintenance dose to achieve that is being totally honest about who you are and your relationship with food.But that admission is the tricky bit. I’ve had to face the fact that any disruption to the stability in my routine, and general busy-ness, is what tips me into a vulnerable state in which I struggle to maintain discipline. High days and holidays present temptations that I don’t have the resilience to resist.I’m weak around the nicer things in life and that includes delicious food. I don’t think I’m unusual in that.In my view this is where the prescribing guidelines fall down. Mounjaro should be available to anyone who feels they need to shift half a stone and deal with a weight increase directly. They shouldn’t have to use desperate tactics or go to an unauthorised provider because they haven’t been diagnosed as overweight or obese.I find it amazing that men can buy Viagra over the counter, but women have to jump on and off scales as well as through hoops to prove our weight and need before we can access Mounjaro or other weight-loss jabs.Back on a little dose of skinny jab, I’m now convinced I’ll make the goal I set myself for October. Knowing that I can do that removes a stress I didn’t even know I was feeling.And every summer from now on is going to be a Mounjaro summer.