Last Day in FA
The neurologist called and said my 17year-old daughter’s MRI scans were consistent with multiple sclerosis (MS). Afer weeks of going to several doctors for an explanation of her symptoms, the fnal diagnosis was my worst fear come true. I received this call on day 22 of my abstinence in Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous. As I packed my food to take to the hospital, I told myself it would be my last day in the program. Who cares if I’m abstinent from four, sugar, and quantities if my daughter has to live with this disease for the rest of her life? I called my sponsor to commit my food, but I had no intention of telling her I was leaving the program. Yet somehow, by some supernatural miracle, I ate the abstinent food I had committed—no more and no less.
With medication and a proper lifestyle, she lives the same life she would have without MS. If I had allowed my grief to push me away from FA, my daughter would have been fne, and I would have been killing myself with food.
Who cares if I’m abstinent fom four, sugar, and quantities if my daughter has to live with this disease for the rest of her life?
Te next day, I called my sponsor and committed my food again, and I was abstinent that day, too. I now know that my Higher Power gave me the willingness to stay abstinent. Today, my daughter is perfectly fne.
Before joining FA, I thought I sufered from many health conditions directly related to the food I ate: carpal tunnel, alopecia, IBS, and pre-diabetic A1C levels. On the outside, I had everything I wanted: a successful career and a great family. But on the inside, I was deteriorating because I could not get control of my eating. For years before FA, I would wake up every morning making vows about my food. I’d only eat this many calories. I wouldn’t eat past this time at night. I’d go this many hours between meals, I’d only take three bites of this four-sugar product. And every day I would fail.
One day I got a call from an old friend who was in recovery from drug addiction, and when she described the struggles that had
caused her to use, I realized I could identify with everything she said. Te way she used drugs to cope with life, I was using food to do the same. So, I proceeded to Google “support group for food addiction” and FA was the frst website to pop up. As soon as I read the 20 questions, I knew I was a food addict. Afer trying everything possible for many years to gain control of my eating, I quickly discovered that FA was my only solution. Having my daughter reclaim her life while living with MS was the frst miracle I experienced in the program. It taught me that when I put my recovery frst, I permit God to take care of everything else. And this is why I stay in the program. Every day I am abstinent, I experience miracles, big and small, that prove my Higher Power is with me, doing for me and my family what I cannot do for myself. When I put my recovery frst, my mind is clear and my heart is at peace. I don’t panic when things go wrong. I simply ask my Higher Power to get me through it, like when I got through my daughter’s diagnosis. I call other fellows and ask them to share their experience, strength, and hope. When I’m struggling with emotions I can’t quite identify, I use the tools of writing and gratitude to help remind me of all the miracles I experience amid difculties. And no matter what I face daily, I abstain from four and sugar and eat three weighed and measured meals.
Lyneè U., Illinois, US
A New Identity
My life began with personal confusion as a mirror image identical twin. I was born lef-handed; my twin brother is right-handed. We were so much alike that even our mother had trouble telling us apart.
We grew up poor, in the deep South, way out in the country. My brother and I quickly grew overweight, like our parents and the rest of the family, devouring second and third helpings of Southern fried everything until there was nothing lef.
By the time we entered frst grade, we each weighed 100 pounds and had to be ftted into third-grade desks because the frst-grade desks were too small. We were constantly teased and taunted with fat-shaming rhymes. Tankfully, we were both bright students and earned high praise from our teachers, which boosted our poor self-esteem.
As I hit puberty, I shot up to 5 feet, 11 inches tall, trying out for football at 215 pounds. However, that winter, I contracted pneumonia and lost 30 pounds. Suddenly, all the girls started noticing me, saying how much cuter I was than my chubby brother. For the frst time in my life, I had my own identity as the skinny one. Losing weight was
making me popular.
At age 14, I started fasting weekly. I also forced myself to throw up in the bathroom, stole my mother’s laxatives, and gave myself enemas, anything to drive my weight down. I became bulimic, bingeing and purging in an endless cycle. No one had any idea how I shed the pounds. Yet, my self-esteem was in the toilet. I hated myself and harbored passive thoughts of suicide. My weight bottomed out at 155 pounds. Had it not been for my older cousin’s intervention, I don’t know what I might have done.
She introduced me to a popular psychology book on positive thinking. Te depression lifed as I turned to God for comfort and slowly stopped the binge-and-purge cycle of self-abuse, at least for a while.
In high school, I leveled out at 175 pounds and my twin had reduced to 195. We bonded around playing musical instruments and performing duets together in chorus and church. Te 20-pound weight diference allowed us to form separate identities. However, the times my twin brother lost weight threw me back into the old secret cycle of bingeing and purging to prevent being mistaken for him. Tis pattern continued until
I found yet another way to control my weight—running. I learned that if I ran 20 miles or more a week, I could (or so it seemed) eat whatever I wanted and not gain weight. Tis continued afer I married and began working as a youth director for our religious denomination. My brother and I parted ways, each moving to opposite sides of the country, where I found a new identity as the hospital chaplain in the Army Reserves.
For the next 25 years, I yo-yo dieted, losing 20 to 30 pounds, sliding up and down the scale, trying every new fad diet that came along, dropping just enough weight to pass the Army’s semi-annual weigh-in, so I could literally “have my cake and eat it, too.” I played this gaining and losing game my entire career as an Army chaplain. Eventually, it took its toll on my health. I wore out the cartilage in my knees carrying all that excess weight. I tore a tendon in my lef calf, was diagnosed with deep vein thrombosis (DVT), and threw three blood clots into my lungs. I went on blood thinners for six months and recovered, but I could never run again. I barely made it to my mandatory removal date at age 60.
To celebrate retirement and coming of the Army’s weight control program, I started eating everything in sight. I soon became clinically depressed. I felt lost with no identity or sense of purpose. Within two years I weighed 265 pounds. I could not stop eating.
I routinely stopped at a popular ice cream fast food shop on the way home, bought a half gallon, and sat with it between my legs while driving, fnishing the whole thing by the time I pulled into the driveway. Shamefully, I would hide the empty container in the bottom of the trash bin, cover it up, and hope my wife would not fnd out.
I developed heart disease, became pre-diabetic, and went on blood pressure and cholesterol medications. I eventually ended up having three heart surgeries in seven years. Although my father and eldest brother died prematurely of sudden-death heart attacks due to obesity, it did not stop me. It was not until I started bleeding from seven lesions in my colon and rectum that I woke up. A colorectal surgeon informed me he would have to perform a colostomy, hopefully reversible, but not a guarantee. I begged the doctor for an alternative. He recommended a whole food, plant-based diet for seven weeks, which might heal the lesions and prevent use of a colostomy bag. He ordered me to not eat anything with a face or a mother, which meant no dairy, meat, poultry, fsh of any kind, as well as no sugar, four, processed foods, or anything from a can, box, or package. I was told to eat only whole grains, vegetables, fruit, and a small amount of ground seeds.
I followed the plan, lost 25 pounds in seven weeks, and when I returned to the surgeon, he told me that I did not have to undergo
surgery. Te lesions had disappeared except for one tiny place which was almost healed. Te doctor informed me that I would have to continue eating this way for the rest of my life or I would wind up right back where I started, and it wouldn’t be pretty. I knew that if I could do it for seven weeks, I could continue to do it for the rest of my life. And I never looked back.
Trough divine providence, I had simultaneously stumbled upon a monetized commercial program based on FA the same week of my consultation with the surgeon. It had similar guidelines as FA, including no sugar, no four, three weighed and measured meals a day, nothing in between, and no binge foods, which sounded strangely insane. However, the monetized program did not go far enough. I had to go all the way if I was going to live to see 70. Shelling out a hef y annual fee did not motivate me enough to stay out of the food. I needed
more than just a coach and an online support group. I needed what FA ofered to keep me abstinent: a personal relationship with my Higher Power, the Twelve Steps, a sponsor to help keep me rigorously honest, three meetings a week, three calls to FA fellows a day, and all the other tools of the program.
Today, I am 71 years old, I weigh 172 pounds, and I no longer need blood pressure medication, statins, or cholesterol-lowering drugs. I am of blood thinners and heart medication. I am no longer pre-diabetic. I had one total knee replacement, but I no longer need another. I have truly found a new identity as a recovering food addict. I have a newfound purpose, to carry the FA message to other food addicts and be of service for the rest of my life in gratitude for the second chance I have been given. Tis is the only true way I have found to live happy, joyous, and free of food addiction.
Tony C., Connecticut, US
DEB H., MA
I Give Up
Saying my childhood was dysfunctional is an understatement. As a child, I wasn’t given enough food to eat. Hungry, I would go to my friends’ houses and head straight to the kitchen to raid their cabinets. Later in middle school, I ate everyone’s lunch of their plates.
My mother was a kleptomaniac who stole food and household items from the stores. My sister and I would block her shopping cart while she stufed her coat and purse. She was an unft mother and all nine of us kids were placed in diferent foster homes throughout our lives. I started using drugs and alcohol at age 13 to escape my life.
Why did I keep relapsing like that? Maybe it was because I was treating it like a diet, felt like I was being deprived, or fooled myself into thinking that things weren’t that bad.
I believe my food addiction kicked in at age 40 when I went on an antidepressant. An abusive relationship had just ended, and I couldn’t sleep or work. I gained 20 pounds from the drug, but when I went of it, the weight didn’t come of, so I returned to my pattern of fnding another FA meeting and getting another sponsor for a day or two. Tus, the cycle continued.
I was introduced to FA in 2005 through Alcoholics Anonymous. I knew I wanted to lose weight, but I didn’t know if FA’s lifestyle was for me. Although the people in those rooms were thin and sane, I fgured I was too laid back to follow the program as it was laid out. Tere had to be an easier way to lose 20 pounds. I tried my version of an “easier way” by going in and out of FA for 19 years without staying abstinent. I have used so many conniving addict behaviors that go along with food addiction. I have experienced every way to toy with my food and lie to myself and my sponsors. Although I had been sober for many years and knew that Twelve-Step programs could work, this food thing had me in its grip.
I was 50 pounds overweight and allowed myself to be in abusive relationships. I fnally accepted that this disease was just as dangerous as cocaine.
DIANE O., FL
I jumped on a virtual FA meeting and got a sponsor. Afer discussing my home situation, she recommended that I not travel to my hometown for Christmas, and I wasn’t happy about that suggestion. I normally would have rejected her advice.
Te next morning when I called her, a miracle happened. I cried out that I was not going home for the holidays. I had done it a dozen times before, and traveling didn’t work when I was trying to get abstinent. I knew in my heart of hearts that I had to surrender my will. I had to follow the suggestions. I had to be willing to do whatever my sponsor suggested if I was going to get diferent results in my life. I always wanted to be abstinent more than I wanted to be overweight, but I had never been willing to do the necessary work. Being abstinent is sometimes very hard. As a former overeater, I get hungry afer breakfast. What do I do now? Use the tools. Tese tools have been laid at my feet. I get to do them every day, as well as pick up that thousand-pound phone. I stay busy between meals, which helps a lot. Most importantly, I make sure all my meals are planned, weighed, and measured in advance.
I am working FA the way it is designed. FA gives me a deeper level of sobriety, and my life is changing in ways I could never imagine. I never realized that FA was the solution to so much more that I’ve been looking for in my life.
Faith H., South Carolina, US
We admitted we were powerless over food – that our lives had become unmanageable.
Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to food addicts and to practice these principles in all our afairs.
Spiritual Bank Account
There’s a page in Twenty-Four Hours a Day that suggests making regular deposits into our spiritual bank account so when we are in need, there is an abundant supply from which to withdraw. I diligently use my tools and regularly deposit gratitude into my Higher Power bank, so my Higher Power gives me spiritual help when I’m in need. It’s sort of the opposite of overdraf protection.
I used to volunteer at a local theater. I hadn’t volunteered for a year since moving 40 miles away, but the schedule for the new season still arrived by email. In the most recent list of performances and dates, I saw the name of an old friend who is a classical guitarist. Surprised and intrigued because his name was connected to a blues band, I
thought, “ Tis is an opportunity to say hello to Mark and see what he is doing.” So, I volunteered for the night of the concert. Tis decision was driven by self-centeredness–I was in it for me; it was not about helping the theater.
Tough I didn’t expect outstretched arms and a brass band when I got to the theater, I was still surprised that the other volunteers were somewhat standofsh, and the manager ignored me completely as he walked to the concession counter to converse with others. I fought to ignore the blow to my self-esteem. Te sweets behind the glass at the concession stand momentarily caught my interest, but I turned my attention to my responsibilities as an usher. Te strength to ignore the sweets and focus
on my role was one of those automatic payments from my spiritual bank account. When the time came for my friend to appear on stage, he didn’t. A di ferent man did—a man with the same name as my friend. I had misinterpreted the billing. Tis performer was a solo act who played diferent guitar styles and put them in a historical context.
Between his and the next act, I experienced my Higher Power bank handing me another spiritual withdrawal in the form of a new awareness. It occurred to me that the manager, who happens to be obese, might struggle with issues like my own. It was no longer about me. I was able to approach the manager with a positive, kind attitude. We spoke brief y and shared a good conversation about Mark’s talent.
Since “my” Mark was not there, I no longer had a reason to be at the theater, and the music wasn’t my favorite. I thought about leaving, but once again, my recovery bank kicked in. I accepted my volunteer responsibilities, which included picking up the trash at the end of the evening afer the patrons lef.
As I eased into my seat next to the wall, I made my Higher Power my “date.” I leaned into the shoulder of my Higher Power’s strength and experienced the rest of the concert warmed by companionship in love, joy, and peace.
Rachel
S., Massachusetts, US
Our common welfare should come frst; personal recovery depends on FA unity.
For our group purpose there is but one ultimate authority – a loving God as He may express Himself in our group conscience. Our leaders are but trusted servants; they do not govern.
The only requirement for FA membership is a desire to stop eating addictively.
Each group should be autonomous except in matters afecting other groups or FA as a whole.
Each group has but one primary purpose –to carry its message to the food addict who still sufers.
An FA group ought never endorse, fnance or lend the FA name to any related facility or outside enterprise, lest problems of money, property and prestige divert us from our primary purpose. Every FA group ought to be fully self-supporting, declining outside contributions.
Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous should remain forever nonprofessional, but our service centers may employ special workers.
FA, as such, ought never be organized; but we may create service boards or committees directly responsible to those they serve.
Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous has no opinion on outside issues, hence the FA name ought never be drawn into public controversy.
Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio and flms.
Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our Traditions, ever reminding us to place principles before personalities.
Distant But Close
The trees are covered with snow outside my cabin window. It’s beautiful. It’s peaceful. It’s quiet. It’s also isolated. My husband and I live miles from the nearest town at the top of a snow-capped, forested mountain. It’s what I needed to fnd rest afer living in Southern California for most of my life, with its millions of distractions coming from every direction and fastfood chain restaurants on every corner.
To get here, to this place of rest and peace, I had to leave my FA community behind. In California, I had a variety of meetings to choose from. I could go just about any day of the week. FA meetings were at my church and several church friends were going through this journey with me. It was at those meetings that I learned what it meant to be a food addict and how to use the tools to live an abstinent life. I learned to have sobriety around food so that being around others didn’t cause me to have major cravings or worse. During that time, I lost 125 pounds (which was half my body weight), came back to life, and went back to school to get my registered nursing credentials at 57 years old.
FA changed my life. Sadly, I didn’t realize just how much all of it meant to me until I moved. FA gave me the strength to accept
the things I couldn’t change and courage to change what I could, to paraphrase the serenity prayer. So, when I put that into practice and changed what I could, it included moving away from the convenience of big city life to the small community of Kalispell, Montana. Tere are conveniences here, but I have to drive at least 15 miles to reach them. What I don’t have is the convenience of an FA family. I can make phone calls, but it’s not the same.
Afer a few years of being in Montana, I have found strength from FA, my Higher Power, and my family to maintain my abstinence. Te sayings I heard at FA meetings and read in the literature still come to mind and help me keep abstinent. Doing things one step at a time, one ounce at a time, one meal at a time, and one breath at a time are part of my life. Living just for today has helped me tackle major projects. When tempted to eat of my food plan, saying “It’s not my food” has kept me from straying. But mostly, I’ve come to realize that I’m not alone, even though I don’t have my FA fellowship close by. My Higher Power is strengthening me daily on this journey. When I truly need it, someone reaches out to me and lets me know that I’m not alone. It’s wonderful to be a part of an FA com-
ined when I was in Southern California. I may not be able to hug a fellow member in person, but I know they are there, reaching out to me and I to them, from around the world, thanks to modern technology and
my Higher Power. I’m here to stay and thankful that even though I live in the woods, I’m isolated but not alone. Tank you, FA, for allowing my life to change for the better and staying with me through it all.
Clarice T., Montana, US
JODI J., NC
A Journey to Freedom
In 2020, I found myself weighed down by the burden of obesity, tipping the scales at 229 pounds. My issue wasn’t just about carrying excess weight—it was about carrying decades of anxieties, isolation, and misery. I had spent over 30 years defned by my struggles with food, and it was time for a change.
My journey towards freedom began when I made the courageous decision to seek help. I joined with modest goals in mind: drop a dress size, ft into my clothes comfortably, and perhaps fnd a hint of contentment. Little did I know that, within just six months, I would experience a weight-loss transformation that seemed unimaginable. Shedding 75 pounds and three dress sizes, I rediscovered parts of myself that had been hidden beneath layers of self-doubt and excess weight. Feeling my hip bones again, I felt a sense of homecoming in my body that I hadn’t felt since my youth. It was truly transformative.
One of the most astonishing aspects of my journey is not just the weight loss itself, but the fact that I have maintained it for three years. Tis accomplishment felt almost miraculous considering my history of failed diets and the endless cycle of gaining back what I had lost. Unlike previous attempts, this wasn’t just about shedding pounds; it was also about reclaiming my life and rediscover-
ing my sense of self-worth.
My path to recovery was bolstered by a deepening spiritual practice rooted in my experiences with Alcoholics Anonymous. Amid the challenges of the Covid lockdown, surrounded by stockpiled food and battling my sugar addiction, I had a profound realization about the extent of my obsession with food. It was during this time that I decided to fully commit to FA.
Initially hesitant and shy, I mustered the courage to attend FA virtual meetings. Each meeting became a stepping stone towards embracing this new approach to food and fnding joy in conscious eating. With each planned meal and the support of a dedicated sponsor, I confronted my fears and discovered a newfound sense of control over my eating habits. Te joy I found in eating consciously far outweighed the temporary allure of mindless indulgence.
Te FA community became my lifeline, a source of companionship, encouragement, and invaluable advice. Acknowledging every victory, confronting doubts, and receiving unwavering support from fellow FA members, I learned to navigate this journey one day at a time. Every morning, I leaned on my faith, praying for the strength to overcome challenges. Each triumph not only demon-
strated my personal resilience but also affrmed my belief in a higher power and my true purpose in life.
One of my biggest challenges in recovery has been maintaining positive and harmonious relationships while upholding my newfound principles and boundaries. I make sincere eforts to get along with everyone, avoiding unnecessary conficts or hostilities. Recently, I faced a situation where my core values were compromised, and I made the difcult decision to set a frm boundary to preserve my integrity. Tis was a pivotal moment in my journey toward self-discovery and personal growth.
My sponsor has been a steadfast presence throughout my 3.5-year journey, marking milestones, listening to my doubts, and providing unwavering encouragement. Te wisdom shared by the FA community has served as a beacon of hope and understanding, reminding me that I am not alone in this struggle.
In my recovery, I’ve discovered the signifcance of pausing, refecting, and seeking moments of profound peace amidst life’s chaos. I now uphold a calm and tranquil demeanor, even amid the hustle and noise of daily challenges. During the quiet early mornings, while the household sleeps, I fnd solace and inner peace, a testament to the transformative impact of this journey. Over the past three years, I have faced signifcant challenges, including a breast cancer diagnosis,
surgery and treatment, relocation, a corporate takeover, retirement, and my mother experiencing a stroke and developing dementia. Troughout it all, I remained committed to abstinence, unwavering in my determination to stay on course.
In FA, I’ve embraced practical tools that support my progress and help me maintain abstinence. Staying connected with supportive members and reaching out regularly for encouragement and accountability has been instrumental. Attending FA meetings, whether in-person or online, has allowed me to gain valuable insights, share experiences, and feel part of a supportive community. I commit wholeheartedly to staying abstinent from triggering binge foods, utilizing coping mechanisms like making calls, pausing, and praying during tough moments to prevent relapse.
For me, this journey isn’t just a battle against food addiction—it’s a profound journey towards freedom and self-discovery. Armed with the tools and principles of FA, I navigate each day with purpose and resilience. In the company of like-minded individuals who share similar aspirations, I walk towards a future unburdened by the past, celebrating each step towards a healthier, more balanced life. Te impact of FA transcends mere weight loss—it’s about reclaiming joy, selfworth, and the confdence to live authentically.
Lindsay B., Sussex, UK
Te Opposite of Addiction
At my frst meeting of FA, I asked a member if I needed to be a certain amount overweight to beneft from the program. Tey said to stick around, and promised that if I was indeed a food addict, I would hear my story. Within a week, I did hear a member qualify about their lifetime of self-loathing and fear. I could relate to that. Despite over three decades of recovery in other Twelve-Step programs for food, I was near my highest weight. T ere were food items I “had” to have at certain times of the day, and I obsessively stockpiled these items. Even worse, I was terrifed I could not pass the swim test to maintain my lifeguard certifcation.
been eating addictively while working at home during the pandemic. When I fnally began this program with a sponsor and a food plan, the weight fell o f, f ve pounds a month for nine months.
I met people fom my local area who attend in-person meetings.
I was impressed with the food neutrality demonstrated at the hotel-catered meals.
Afer that frst meeting, I was still hesitant about joining. While I thought I could give up sugar products, I did not think I could give up four. My FA friend advised me to start with no sugar and soon afer I stopped eating four. I even got rid of the boxes and bags of organic food I had
Although I am grateful I lost all my weight, it is the fellowship that has sustained me. Like many others in FA, I began my recovery in videoconference meetings. I met my f rst FA friend in a videoconference meeting and have a strong sense of belonging to the f rst FA group I attended. I do service at that group because the members continue to be so kind and generous with their support. My awareness of the importance of fellowship grew afer attending a number of in-person fellowship events. Each event was very special to me and my recovery.
At the FA Fellowship Convention in Arizona, I was gi fed a place to stay by a member and had an amazing experience eating abstinently with hundreds of fellows at the convention. I met many of the
people I had only seen in videoconference squares. I learned about the whole variety of options other than just quali f cations for meetings. I met people from my local area who attend in-person meetings. I was impressed with the food neutrality demonstrated at the hotel-catered meals. T e thing that amazed me the most was seeing so many people in right-sized bodies. I went, knowing no one, and I departed with a grateful heart and new friends.
At another fellowship event, I saw my f rst FA friend, my FA sponsor, and my frst FA sponsee standing in front of the meeting hall. My heart leapt for joy to hug and see these folks in person. No sooner had I hugged each of them, I turned around and saw my f rst sponsor, the woman to whom I talked daily for nine months and who helped me get abstinent. I had never met her, or most of the 200 people who registered for this
special event, in person. I got to spend the entire day with my sponsor, and at lunch, we met two other fellows who joined us to walk a labyrinth with beautiful views. I was able to do service by teaching a yoga session. Over 20 beautiful yogis and yoginis joined me to experience our bodies moving and re f ecting on the principles of the program and the gi f of the connection of our minds, bodies, and spirits. I am a frm believer that the opposite of addiction is connection. Writing about the profound connections I have experienced is a gif of my recovery. I hope everyone in recovery knows that they deserve love, support, a place to dine with other abstinent people, a place to give service, and dear friends, sponsors, and sponsees to help them maintain abstinence one day at a time.
Lori J., California, US
SUSAN D., CA
Out of Touch
Making outreach calls was not part of my daily routine during my beginning years of FA. I was working full-time and felt that I didn’t have time to call people I hardly knew. Besides, I thought, how did talking to strangers help me lose weight? Now I see that I was using FA as a diet, just like the other weight loss programs I’d used unsuccessfully before fnding FA. I realized I was missing out on building relationships that could support me in dealing with everyday relationship and life issues. Tough I was weighing and measuring my food, I was not using the tools of our program to make lifestyle changes and choices. We live out in the country and don’t have consistent and dependable cell phone service, so we have a landline to make and receive phone calls at home. Recently, our phone service and internet were totally knocked out for 25 days! I was unable to attend FA videoconference meetings or my
To maintain contact,
I drove into our small town
where I could get dependable cell coverage.
AWOL. I couldn’t call my sponsor from home or take any sponsee calls. Fortunately, I could receive and send texts from home. I let my sponsor and sponsee know what had happened. To maintain contact, I drove into our small town where I could get dependable cell coverage. Every morning, while it was still dark, I drove into town to make my outreach calls. I would call while I made a trip to the library, grocery store, or to pick a grandchild up from school. I discovered that I didn’t like this forced isolation. I had to be intentional about my calls due to the inconvenience of leaving the house to be able to connect. I realized how important it is for my recovery to reach out to FA fellows on a regular basis. Now, instead of dreading making calls, I am so grateful for the connections I’m able to make with FA members. Tese relationships are a necessary part of my daily recovery.
Beth V., Michigan, US
A Vision for You
Once again, I found myself playing that old, familiar game, “Has Anyone Seen My Reading Glasses?” With pairs on my nightstand, work desk, in my purse, on my “quiet time” chair, and in the car, you’d think my chances were pretty good at winning. Tink again. My clever husband, watching closely, keenly assessed the situation and jumped
Notable & Q uotable
Thank you for all your N&Q submissions. We are busy compiling them for future issues.
Our next N&Q prompt: We read the promises at the end of every meeting. Which of the promises have
in. “Here! Take mine.” And he handed me the 2.0s I’d given him recently upon graduating to 2.5 strength. “Aw, thanks, honey,” I said, “but they’re too low power for me. Tat’s why I gave them to you.” Sharp as ever, he replied, “Of course they are. You’ve always been a Higher Power girl, haven’t you?”
Angie R., New York, US
come true for you in FA?
Please email your short response, between one and three sentences, using the subject line N&Q to articles@foodaddicts.org. Please include the question to which you are responding.
SUSAN M., NY
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the diference.