True Royalty

When I was a child, my family and I took frequent road trips to the city where my father was born, which was also where my grandparents, great-grandparents, and other family members lived. I have fond and happy memories of seeing the countryside and being with the ones I love, but one memory stands out like a neon sign.

When my great grandmother was still alive, we visited her and celebrated our time together by going to a buffet restaurant called The Royal Fork. I thought this restaurant was the greatest. As a pudgy girl and a great fan of large quantities of food, eating at this restaurant was my ticket to happiness. I vividly remember the taste and sight of one of my favorite food items and the shine of the silverware I used. I felt like I was royalty. I could have stayed there all day and was extremely disappointed when my family wanted to leave. I felt safe in that restaurant. The act of eating, getting up for more plates full of food, and eating again, kept me away from the uncomfortable feelings I had about the fact that I probably wouldn't see my great grandma again. I felt shame for not knowing her well and not knowing what to say to her. I also was uncomfortable having my picture taken with the family because I felt fat and didn’t want to be seen in the pictures.

I didn’t know at the time that I ate to shield myself from feeling, but now I look back and see that eating kept me from crying or showing anger and disappointment when we had to leave the restaurant and leave my great grandma. After that visit, that buffet restaurant is what I associated with my great grandmother. Not her apartment, her photos, her clothing, or her smile. But that uncomfortable restaurant meal, including my awkward feelings and my need to keep getting up for more food at the buffet.

Recently, I went back to the city where my great grandmother lived. The difference this time was that I was abstinent in FA. My great grandma is deceased, but my grandparents are still alert and lively at the ages of 90 and 94. I knew, going into the trip, that I might have similar feelings to the ones I experienced about my great grandma when I was a young girl. I am now 32 and in a thin, healthy body of 118 pounds. The outside of me is well, and I am satisfied. The inside of me is healthy, too, thanks to studying the Twelve Steps in FA and my one-on-one relationship with my Higher Power. I had confidence that I would be able to handle my feelings and continue weighing and measuring my food the same way that I have for the past six years.

On the first day of my visit, I faced a major challenge. My grandmother brought up the topic of weight. She bragged about her thinness, and then began speaking of my weight. I was confused. She used to say I was too fat and needed to go on a diet and now she was saying that I was too thin. I felt very insecure when she brought in some sugar and flour items and nearly forced one into my mouth. The fear in me went deep. I told her, “I would crave more if I ate it,” but that didn’t seem to work.

After my uncle scolded her for talking about my weight, I retreated to my car and called my sponsor and, thankfully, she picked up the phone. She guided me to respond to my grandma by saying, every time she offered me food, “No thanks, I’ll have some later.” I followed her suggestion that night at dinner, while I gratefully ate my weighed-and-measured meal. I must have said, “No thanks, I’ll have some later” a hundred times, but it worked every single time. Can you guess who felt like true royalty when I left their home? I carried this attitude and way of speaking through the rest of my visit. And though I feel that this may be the last time I will see my grandparents on this wonderful Earth, there are absolutely no haunting food memories from this trip. I will remember weighing and measuring all of my food, working all of my tools, and having my grandparents’ smiles, hugs, kind words, pictures, clothing, and love in my heart forever.