Pool Angel
Iwas in the pool on that fateful Friday morning, swimming and praying. I had recently broken my foot, and the pool was my healing haven. I’d joined the health club near my home, primarily for access to the pool. It was part of the local hotel that also served as a convention venue. So there I was, swimming, getting a little exercise, and praying to God for help. For months, my broken foot kept me from the physical activities I loved most: walking and playing pickleball. My cancer was progressing and I would soon have to change the treatment I was receiving, which is always a scary thing. I was thinking, God, what do you want !om me? Please help me. At that moment, a woman in the pool approached and asked, “Are you here for the FA conference?” I had no idea what she was talking about. She provided me with a short overview of FA, and when I told her I had struggled with weight my entire life, she invited me to go to the free and open FA meeting about to begin in one hour in the hotel’s grand ballroom. Here’s a snapshot of what my life had been like up to that moment. For most of my life, I saw myself as a “doer,” someone
who sets goals and usually accomplishes them. But there was one exception. I was not happy with my body and weight. Of course, I could lose weight, but I couldn’t keep it o!. I was the typical yo-yo dieter, up and down. At age 64, I was 5 feet, 5 inches tall and my weight " uctuated between 130 and 160 pounds. Naturally, my closet held clothes ranging from size 16 to 6.
To the world, I appeared to be a well-educated and stable professional. I’d been an attorney, an environmental specialist, and an executive o cer. I was married to a wonderful man for over 30 years and had two beautiful, healthy children. But to be perfectly honest, life was o en challenging and exhausting, especially when the job got tough and the kids were small. Sometimes, it was so overwhelming I felt like I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Something would set me o! and I’d end up yelling at my husband and crying myself to sleep. But between those di cult times, life was good and I was always grateful for my family, friends, and work. I had no idea I might be a food addict. At age 57 I was diagnosed with incurable
blood cancer. For the rst time in my busy life, I had to consider my mortality. My response was to get to work and gure out how to live longer. I threw myself into learning all I could about my disease. I found and made appointments with some of the country’s best doctors. I read everything I could nd by cancer survivors, many of whom credited healthy eating as the key to beating cancer. I also put time into planning for death, such as purchasing a cemetery plot and writing my obituary.
on death, dying, and religion. I met with religious directors, spiritual guides, and healers. I learned how to pray, how to meditate, and how to let go of resentments. Wonder of wonders, my cancer treatments forced this perpetual achiever to slow down. I retired from work and began to recognize that being a multi-tasking planner and doer was not necessarily good. My lifelong pride took a hit.
I accepted an invitation
!om a stranger in the pool and hobbled !om the ladies’ locker room to my rst-ever FA meeting.
What was more di cult was delving into spiritual matters. Did I believe in God, spirit, heaven, or eternal life? Never before had I adequately addressed these questions. I also realized I was carrying a lot of suppressed anger and resentment against people who had hurt me over the years, people who I could not or would not forgive. &is was a surprise to me. I needed to x this because if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that when death came, I did not want to feel angry or afraid. I wanted to die peacefully. Another project was born.
For two years, I read hundreds of books
And then, last year, I accepted an invitation from a stranger in the pool and hobbled from the ladies’ locker room to my rst-ever FA meeting. I was shocked to see the ballroom full of hundreds of good-looking, thin people. Several speakers took turns walking up to the podium to share their stories. & ey spoke of something called “abstinence.” I had never before heard the word associated with eating and was afraid that I had stumbled into some sort of cult. I warily asked the stranger sitting next to me if the speakers were talking about sex. I was relieved and comforted to learn that abstinence in FA pertained to not eating "our and sugar or foods not weighed or measured. Still, I was not convinced this FA
thing was for me.
But I kept going to meetings online. People talked about unmanageable lives and how a power greater than themselves could restore them to sanity. I wasn’t sure I belonged. Something in me was resisting.
I called a few FA members to assure them that my life was not that unmanageable. I was a successful professional woman. But then one woman said something that struck me. She told me that for her, joining FA felt like a life-or-death decision. In her heart, she believed that the way she ate and behaved was threatening her life. & ose words triggered something in my brain, something familiar. I thought back to that period when I was focused on death, dying, and God, and I remembered a silent retreat I’d attended years before. I found a journal entry from that time and here is what I’d written. “What I know is this—God is real, loves me, and wants me to be as healthy as I can
be. &e hard part will be how not to give in to temptation. I am a food addict. If I am to follow God’s will and give myself a better shot at a longer life, I need to do this. But how?”
Reading this entry, I could see that I hadn’t been ready at that time. It would be ve years before that fateful day in the pool. So, what did I do a er writing those prophetic words in my journal at the silent retreat? I did what I had always done. I tried a new diet, which ultimately failed. Once again, I went back to my old habits. I let the knowledge of God’s desire for me slip away. I replaced it by focusing on the deadly pandemic gripping the world. And then, I was introduced to FA.
I have been abstinent for just over a year now. It has not been easy. &e rst 90 days were hard, especially when I wanted to eat out with friends. It was hard learning to surrender. I complained about my sponsor’s
DIANE O., FL
“rules.” It took me a while to let go of thinking I knew best. I gradually came to see that my sponsor was simply showing me what had worked for her, the actions she had taken to become abstinent. I wanted that for myself, so I hung in there and stuck to the program, and I am so thankful that I did. Following my sponsor’s suggestions, I learned how to surrender to my higher power.
Now, here I am, a year into the program, and I’m still a work in progress. I always will be. I’ve joined my rst study of the Twelve Steps and it is helping. I’m learning about nding forgiveness in myself and others. I would like to end my story by saying my cancer has been cured, but alas, it hasn’t. In fact, for the h time in seven years, it’s progressing again. I’m grateful for my FA fellows who remind me that when I try to take life 24 hours at a time, I can get through anything. Most of all, I’m grateful that my higher power has never given up on me. Aside from the cancer, I’m healthy. I have no high blood pressure, no high cholesterol, no in" ammation, and no diabetes. My right-sized body feels light and comfortable. Whether or not healthy eating will defeat my cancer is unknown. But as my higher power told me, I need to try. Now, for the rst time, I am con dent I will never go back to addictive, destructive eating.
JoAnn
V., Massachusetts, US
Twelve Traditions
Our common welfare should come rst; 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 a ecting other groups or FA as a whole.
Each group has but one primary purpose –to carry its message to the food addict who still su ers.
An FA group ought never endorse, nance 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 lms.
Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our Traditions, ever reminding us to place principles before personalities.
First 90 Days
Clicking In
Over and over, I would nd myself lying on the couch, utterly disgusted with myself, and immobilized by my latest gorge. Not a day would pass when I didn’t think about food—excitement over a new diet, a new gimmick, or maybe a “magic pill.” &en I would experience feelings of failure and despair, which led to anger and humiliation. Fueled by fear and insecurity, I lived the de nition of insanity by doing the same thing over and over but expecting a di ! erent result. For two decades! & e worst was yet to come, but also the best. I was driving to work and the speaker on the radio said something about how Americans are addicted to sugar. She had a name for this addiction, but I didn’t catch it. I went about my day. Later that morning at work, I couldn’t stop thinking about how delicious dinner would be. My husband and I were making chicken wings with all the xings. I could hardly wait. I raced home and ate them for lunch, all by myself. &ey were sweet and fantastic. I ate them all. I’d intended to eat just half, but, you know.
Ordinarily, I would have run back to the
store to replace the two pounds of meat I’d just devoured, my husband none the wiser. But something unusual happened. I remembered that morning’s radio program talking about sugar addiction. Before I knew it, I was searching the internet for more information. My binge seemed similar to what had been described. A click or two later, I discovered the FA website.
“Having trouble controlling the way you eat? Are you overweight? Underweight? Obsessed with food, weight, or dieting? You are not alone.” ey’re talking to me, I thought while reading the landing page. I clicked again, eager to see what this was all about, and it brought me to the “Are you a food addict?” quiz. My answer was yes to 19 of the 20 questions.
& en things got really weird. People’s faces began popping up on my computer screen. What the heck? Where am I? I’m not the most computer-savvy person, but somehow I’d managed to click myself into a live video conference meeting without realizing what I’d done.
“Hello, Peggy. Can you please mute yourself?” It was a person speaking to me from the computer. “You can hear me?” I
asked. “Yes,” they responded. I was shocked. Not about my audio, but my video. I desperately needed to gure out how to hide my fat face. Somehow, I turned o! my video. I decided to stay.
For the next 90 minutes, I kept quiet and listened to people talk very personally about their own experiences of food addiction. I listened, in awe of what I was hearing, and thought, Oh my God, that’s me! at’s what I do, too! Could this mean there’s actually hope for me? When the meeting was over, I immediately found another FA meeting. Again, I listened, trans xed. About 45 minutes into the second meeting, there was a knock on my o ce door. My husband was home for dinner.
ing uncontrollably because I was so embarrassed and ashamed. My husband exclaimed, “Where is your willpower?” I explained that I’d just found out I’m a food addict. He looked puzzled. He had no idea. I’d never binged in front of him or anyone! I’d kept my eating hidden from the world. I’d been outed.
LIZETTE R.B., DC
“Hey Peggy, where are the wings?” I told him I’d eaten them for lunch. “All two pounds?” I apologized and started laugh-
&e next day, I found an FA sponsor and did everything she asked me to do. I have a food scale. I weigh and measure my meals. I have a digital bathroom scale to weigh myself once a month. I write down my food each day and commit it to my sponsor. I call fellow FA members and attend three meetings (or more) a week. I came into FA at 258 pounds and have lost 52 pounds in 90 days. At last, I’ve found what’s wrong with me. Better yet, I’ve found my solution. I’m here to stay.
Peggy W., Wisconsin, US
Finding Real Love
When I came into FA, I couldn’t help comparing myself to people who had successfully restored their marriages. But through the help of my higher power, who I was still coming to understand, I managed to put my needs and those of my three-year-old son rst. Putting boundaries in place around my food soon turned into putting boundaries around other areas of my life, including valuing myself enough to let go of an unhealthy relationship. I got through an amicable divorce abstinently.
Following suggestions from more tenured FA members, I decided to wait a year before dating again. Stability for my son was my number one priority, so I found this commitment fairly easy, although there were times when I felt lonely and had to ask my Higher Power for help. I was determined to stick to my commitment, just as I had done with my food every day since coming into FA. & is was the longest I had ever gone without seeking connection and romance. Ever since I was about seven, I remember having “boyfriends.” I didn’t know how to be alone. For 18 months I was completely abstinent from activities related to dating, relationships, or physical intimacy. Instead,
I focused on my program, my son, and work (in that order, as recommended by my sponsor, which wasn’t always easy). A er completing an AWOL, I began to feel a new love for myself and enjoyed spending time on my own. For the rst time in my life, I was genuinely happy and no longer felt that I needed a man to complete me.
It was only when my sponsor asked if I had thought about dating again that I started to consider it. I was fearful of my history of being a chameleon, losing myself in whatever my partner wanted me to be or do. For the rst time, I was discovering so much about myself, doing things I enjoyed, and becoming a more authentic version of myself. I didn’t want this to change.
&at is when I decided to ask my higher power for the strength to be authentic while re-entering the dating world. I repeated “I am enough, I have enough, I do enough” over and over. I started internet dating because I didn’t want to introduce anyone new to my son too soon, so moving forward to going on dates was a slow process. I think this was my higher power helping me be more selective and not rush, something I had always done. & e small
number of dates I did go on were scary, and the compulsion to eat was stronger than it had been. It made me understand why experienced FA members encourage people to be abstinent for a year before dating. I don’t think I could’ve stayed abstinent if I was new. I also think I would have attracted the same unhealthy relationships I had in my past.
I worried about what dates would think of my program and how I ate. It had been a long time since I had been with anyone besides my ex-husband. & is brought up many insecurities, and I couldn’t fathom how I would ever be able to take that next step. &ankfully, FA constantly reminded me to stay in the day and take the next right action. I continued to pray to be authentic and not compromise my FA program. I told those I was dating about FA and organized dates like walks or picnics, where I could bring my food. I didn’t hide who I was.
It was scary being open and vulnerable, but I knew that FA was my future and if I couldn’t nd a partner who supported it, then I would prefer to be single. During an outreach call on the way to one of these dates, I was reminded that it didn’t matter if my date thought I was weird. As long as I stayed true to myself and FA, my higher power would nd me my matching puzzle piece. All I had to do was be patient and trust.
&at day my date was pushy, asking that I eat some of his “healthy” food, and when I politely declined, he seemed o!ended. I remembered my earlier outreach call and sat through the discomfort, remaining abstinent and calm.
It didn’t take long before I met the man that I now gratefully call my husband. We connected instantly, but because he lived about an hour away and had three kids, I told him I didn’t think it would work. He brought me back to the present and suggested that we just meet up and see if we clicked before worrying about anything else.
From early on, he accepted my program and the way I ate, wanting to understand it and support me in any way he could. To this day, this has never changed. He has a son with severe allergies, so he was used to taking food everywhere and asking for modi cations in restaurants. Because I was clear about what my program entailed and why it was important to me, he never questioned my commitment to attending FA meetings or doing outreach calls. He understands, accepts, and supports that FA is a part of me and always will be.
Dating in recovery shined a light on the type of partners I have always been attracted to. Even in recovery, I found myself drawn to the “bad boy” types, the ones that needed saving in some way, even when I knew they were not good for me. Looking
back, I had so many opportunities to date the “nice guy,” the one who would treat me well, but I found them less attractive and, honestly, a little boring. It was no di!erent with my new man, except that this time, I intentionally asked my higher power to change me. Each time I started down the wrong path, I would treat that behavior like a food thought and ask my higher power to remove it.
Somewhere along the line, I realized the relationships I had previously sought out were just like my non-abstinent food: exciting and fun, with a momentary “hit” that later le me broken, depressed, helpless, and full of shame. I started to see that this man was like my abstinent food; outwardly a little boring, but constant, loyal, ful lling, healthy, and just what I needed.
laughter. Where there had been chaos came stability and where there used to be disrespect, came love and loyalty.
Fast forward nearly three years, and we are now happily married with a blended family of six. I genuinely look at my husband and feel like the luckiest woman alive. I love him. As a bonus, I have lost most of my body obsession. I was so critical of how I looked, even a er losing weight in FA. On my wedding day and every day since, I can honestly say that I’ve been able to look in the mirror and think, Wow, you’re beautiful.
What a
gi that is.
Over time, just like my abstinent food and my life in FA, when the addiction and fog li ed, what had appeared boring and simple became lled with fun, joy, and
Today, I know I found my matching puzzle piece in my husband, and I’ll happily take my abstinent food and newfound healthy relationship over any one-minute “hit” that always ended badly. &e way I feel now is real and long-lasting, and although getting here wasn’t easy, I would do it all again in a heartbeat.
Alicia, Australia
SUSAN D., CA
My Real Life Began
My dream was to be an athlete. I had run several worldrenowned marathons, an ultra-marathon, and several triathlons, including an Ironman. I hiked the famous Camino de Santiago twice, once via the shorter Portuguese Way and again via the entire 825-kilometer French Way. Behind all my fitness endeavors was the dream of being average-sized. I believed that life would be perfect if I had the right body.
Before FA, I ran 50k (31 miles) a week and dieted every day. I woke up each morning with the perfect eating and exercise plan. I thought that if I could just stick to my plan, I’d reach my goals and my dreams would come true. I could sometimes stick with it through breakfast. And occasionally I could make it through
to lunch. Rarely could I follow my plan for the entire day.
I went to bed each night hating myself for not being able to achieve my goals. The next morning I’d wake up and do it all again. This happened for decades. It was the true definition of insanity. I did the same thing every day expecting a different result.
My highest weight was 202 pounds. Twice, I got close to a right-sized body using a commercial weight-loss program. However, I only kept the weight off for a year or two. Once I even started working as a coach for the weight-loss company, but being a food addict, the weight crept back and I had to quit. Then I decided to try FA. I was 5 feet, 4 inches tall and weighed 172 pounds.
DENISE S., BAHAMAS
Thanks to FA, my dream has come true, but not for the reasons I thought. There’s a clarity in FA I had not experienced previously. Before FA, I was a slave to food. It’s all I thought about. I fantasized about food. I felt like a dog on a leash being led through life by my master, food. I didn’t realize what it was like to be in the food until I was out. Now I’m free.
I spoke to an FA member who had a break. She warned me that there was nothing for me on the other side. Another member who had a break also warned me, “Don’t touch food.” I could hear the pain in their voices as they described their fight to recover their abstinence. My Higher Power keeps me abstinent, and I am grateful every day for this precious gift.
My sponsor says that in FA, we keep our food black and white so our lives can be in color. She is right. I’m now living a technicolor life at 124 pounds. I don’t run anymore but enjoy walks where I can look around and savor the experience. I travel extensively and have a rich, happy life. That chic, fancy feeling I used to look for in vegan cafés, I now get from life. The secret is to trust my sponsor, do everything she says whether I like it or not, rely on my Higher Power, and do all the tools of FA. I’m no longer a prisoner of food and dieting. Only after joining FA did my real life begin.
Kellie M., Canada
Twelve Steps
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 a airs.
Step By Step
When I arrived at the FA business convention last year, my sponsor and others expressed concern about how thin I was. We had not had an in-person convention in four years, so people had not seen me outside my little square on the computer screen.
Although I mentioned to my sponsor that my weight was low, I never told her the number on the scale. We added food to my plan, yet it never made an appreciable di!erence in my weight. I did not tell her that part. I gured I was eating the food we had agreed on and that’s all that mattered.
& e version of food addiction I have, which is an a nity for being underweight, had me convinced that all was well. I was deceiving myself, my sponsor, and everyone else. &e self-deception was so strong that I had no idea there was a problem, which is an ongoing blind spot of mine.
A er several conversations with my sponsor and another person who expressed concern, I ended up starting over with my abstinence. I have been in FA for 20 years, was involved in a great deal of FA service, and had to stop doing all of it. I was shaken to the core. Something in me came
undone.
I had been under the illusion that doing and being a certain way was what made me okay, in FA and the world. I have heard it said that undoing is a necessary part of remaking. &e result of removing that scaffolding, all those ways of being and doing, is that I must reconcile things buried deep within me for a very long time. I am uncovering a great deal of shame. In the mantra, “I am enough, I have enough, I do enough,” I could never get past “I am enough” unless I was doing and being certain ways. &at is the core of my shame—that sense that I am not enough.
What felt like a failure and a giant step backward a year ago is turning out to be a spiritual invitation to grow in ways I had not anticipated. I am truly being remade. It is challenging, at times painful, and always a deeply spiritual journey; a sort of pilgrimage. Step by step, with God holding my hand and encouraging me onward, I am becoming more real, more authentic, and more honest, and through it all, happier and more relaxed in myself. All my relationships, with God, my sponsor, my people in and out of FA, and most importantly, with myself, have deepened and changed for the better. I have not arrived
anywhere and have a long way to go.
God, grant me the serenity to accept what I cannot change and the courage to change what I can. FA is where I am welcomed in my brokenness yet not allowed to stay there. It invites me to change and grow and shows me ways to do that. &is
journey is one that presents challenges and opportunities, some of which I have stumbled on, many of which have stretched me, all of which keep me going. I am grateful to be in a place where others can see what I cannot see in myself. I am enough.
Glenny D., Florida, US
JENNIFER T., ME
Food Won’t Fix It
Iwas like a child needing a paci er. I ate because of every emotion: sadness, joy, anger, happiness, stress, tiredness, or loss. I ate for comfort. &ere was a switch in my head that made food consumption seem like the right action for all feelings. Once that switch was on, I could not turn it o!. I did not know how to deal with those feelings, so I just stu!ed food into my mouth.
For years I attempted to deal with my weight issues. I tried many commercial weight-loss programs as well as hypnosis treatments. Looking for a way out of my weight problem was a nancial drain, and nothing worked.
ways looking for solutions in all the wrong places.
Food addiction continued to grow because of a sequence of challenging events. A relationship I thought would lead to marriage failed when my boyfriend returned from Vietnam. &en I le a stable job to move to a new company in a new area, only to have that rm le for bankruptcy within a year. I faced another job search and subsequent relocation.
When I was only 23, my father suddenly passed away at age 49. His passing was a devastating loss. Back then, there was no conversation about grief counseling. I felt I needed to keep going and make him proud. Soon a er, I tried a geographic cure by moving away from my family. &is was unsuccessful and resulted in another weight gain. I was al-
Here I was again, in a new job with di!erent responsibilities, a new home in an unfamiliar area, and no network of friends. Because I traveled for work four days a week, I lived in hotels, ate room service meals, and was overwhelmed with loneliness. In the midst of this, I married but faced divorce within ve years. Each of these twists and turns caused me to turn more and more to food for comfort. &e nal blow came when I lost a job I loved, due to corporate downsizing. I had over 30
LOU C., NY
years experience in the cosmetics industry and the employment outlook in that eld appeared grim. At age 54, I had to reinvent myself.
Talk about fear, doubt, and insecurity. I accepted a position in investment nance, a new eld, outside of my college education and expertise. I frequently felt overwhelmed and lost, but I didn’t want to ask for help. I didn’t want my co-workers to know what I didn’t know. Eventually, I got up to 197 pounds on a 5-foot, 3-inch frame. My face was full and I was uncomfortable in my own skin. I was full of shame and anger. &at spring, I ran into a former co-worker who had lost a lot of weight. She guided me to my rst FA meeting. As it was in an unfamiliar location, I o!ered to drive if she would co-pilot.
guidance of my sponsor and the close relationships I was building with fellows, I learned that I could work the FA program. I gradually discovered that I needed the boundaries, the tools, and the spiritual connection. I needed all that FA o!ers.
Now was the time to treat the disease and stop blaming myself for not having enough willpower.
At that rst meeting, I heard voices of hope and realized I was not alone. By recognizing that I have a disease of food addiction, I was able to let go of some of the shame and start taking action toward recovery. Now was the time to treat the disease and stop blaming myself for not having enough willpower. When I started FA, I did not think I would make it a week without "our and sugar, but I held to my daily commitments. &rough the
My FA journey has taken me through a cancer diagnosis and treatment, retirement, another relocation, and moving in with adult family members. I was privileged to live with my mom for the last 22 months of her life. With the support of the FA program, I never once felt put out by those care-giving challenges. Instead, I have tremendous gratitude for the opportunity to be so close to her during that time. My mom and my brother passed away within 30 days of each other. &is dual loss was truly heartbreaking. I used to think that if I lost weight, my life would be perfect. What I needed to learn, however, is that life happens and I cannot use food to stu! down my feelings.
Twenty-one years and 65 pounds later, as I re"ect on my time in FA, the most important fact to remember is that no matter what challenges life brings me, I can’t eat over them. I know food won’t x it.
Sharon L., Pennsyl
vania, US
Reunited
My husband and I met at a wedding when I was 24 years old and deep in my food addiction. Once introduced, we bonded when he brought me sweets from the bu!et and I appreciatively ate them. We talked late into the night. We were married six months later.
In our rst years of marriage, we enjoyed the freedoms of life without children. We went out for dinner most nights and stayed up late together watching TV and eating. We both gained a lot of weight. &en, we resolved to diet and exercise together. &e dieting and exercising worked for him, but not for me. We followed a 12-week program that recommended eating six small meals a day and a “free day” on Sunday, which, of course, le me obsessing all week about what I would eat on Sunday. My husband indulged a little and got right back on track Monday morning. I couldn’t do that. I binged until the wee hours. He got lean and t. My weight continued to plague me. When we had been married for four years, I found FA. I lost all my excess weight in six months and felt amazing. But then I relapsed, regaining all my weight and more. In three months of trying not to binge every day, I went from a size 4 to a size 24. I
went through nine sponsors in those three months. It was a nightmare. I nally got abstinent again, but I was still obsessed with food. So, I put my program rst, before everything else, no matter what. I got abstinent and felt happy, but my husband was not pleased.
Over the next three years, our communication dwindled. I could tell things were o!, but he didn’t want to talk about it. I kept making my phone calls, weighing and measuring my food, and decided to believe him when he said he was ne. You can imagine my shock when I found a letter on my computer keyboard saying he wanted to split up. He signed a lease on a small apartment and moved out. A couple of months later, we met to discuss nancial matters. I still didn’t understand what happened, so I asked why he was leaving me. “You’re too self-absorbed,” he told me. “ &at’s it?” I asked. “Yup. Pretty much,” he said. As I drove home, I remember thinking, at doesn’t seem fair. I was self-absorbed when he married me.
Over the next several months, I worked my program. I took sponsee calls. I did service. I worked the &ird Step very deeply and surrendered my marriage to God. I prayed for my husband every day, without fail. I
trusted that if we were meant to reunite, we would, and if we didn’t, my life would go on in new and wonderful ways. I would be okay. I found a new sponsor in my local area with decades of abstinence who did a lot of service. I admired how she lived. I wanted what she had.
A er some time, I told my new sponsor that I wanted to invite my husband to meet for dinner at a local restaurant we used to enjoy together. My sponsor encouraged me to exercise caution, and I did. My husband agreed to meet, and we had a wonderful time. Not only that, he did a complete turnabout. He wanted to get back together. I put the brakes on. &ings had unraveled for a reason, and I insisted we get counseling to sort things out. He agreed, and we found a therapist who o!ered us a one-on-one weekend marriage workshop. It was utterly transformative and we reunited.
We’ve gone on to have three kids during our 24 years of marriage. We are truly happy, even blissful at times. But it hasn’t
been all puppy dogs and rainbows. &ere was a time when I wanted to leave my husband. I’ve had relapses, but today I’m back, and joyfully so. With God’s help and the Twelve Steps, I’m less self-absorbed. I’m devoted in every way to nurturing a thriving marriage. And you know what? It keeps getting better. Today, my husband fully supports me in using all the tools of this program. When we reunited, he knew what he was getting into. And he decided to take me, food addiction, FA, and all. When I’m on the phone for an hour each morning, he gets our kids up and ready for school. He even tries his best not to eat sugar or "our himself. I think he admires what I do.
G., CA
A few years ago, when I le FA to try handling food on my own, I asked for his input. He said he thought it was strange. “Haven’t you been happier and more stable in FA than you’ve ever been? Why would you leave?”
Anonymous
XANDRA
Baby Steps
In the few weeks after my first baby was born, I had no idea which direction was up. Should I feed the baby or take a shower? Should I rock the baby or wash the bottles? Should I change the diaper or eat my lunch? I wished I knew how to prepare meals that were healthy and that I wanted to eat. But I had to nurse the baby, do laundry, or finish that paper for graduate school.
Life was unmanageable, and I was overcome with anger, fear, resentment, and overwhelm... so I ate.
I am not going to claim that my food addiction started during this period of my life. The moment I learned that FA existed, I was crystal clear that all those times I reached the bottom of a bag, licked crumbs, or took the first and last scoop out of the ice cream carton qualified me to be in FA. But the confluence of having a baby, being in graduate school, and trying to be a decent wife as my husband grinded through medical books while I grappled with being an adult inflated my life to true unmanageability.
My eating habits were not normal. I had no idea that meals had a beginning or end,
let alone know how much food belonged on a plate. I wished that somebody else prepared my meals. Between babies one and two, I managed to lose weight following a scientific, low glycemic diet. It was incredible because it taught me about the science of what happens to our blood chemistry when we eat certain foods. Armed with that knowledge, I thought I had a permanent life solution. But my coach kept saying that I could eat only 10 of a particular snack. I was certain I’d heard her wrong, so I would justify that she must have meant more than 10. Didn’t she mean 10 and then go to the bottom of the bag? What if they are broken? How would I count broken pieces? As a food addict, I had a whole dialogue that gave me permission to eat, so I did. I eventually got down to 170 pounds, which I considered a “skinny” number. And I decided it would be a good idea to get pregnant again. What could go wrong?
My husband was transferred to another
state for a one-year army post. The house we rented was at the bottom of the barrel. The air conditioning leaked freon and the intense August humidity made it unbearable. Then an animal died under the house, which brought fleas, and I was covered with red itchy bites. I had no idea which way was up. I also had terrible foot pain every morning. Just getting out of bed to go to the bathroom was dreadful. That year I was pregnant, and after giving birth to my second child, realized I was up to 230 pounds. I was at the rock bottom of my food addiction.
My children are the gi s of a program that provides structure for those of us who balance the needs of others with our own.
not uncommon for me to get up multiple times during meals to take care of their unexpected needs. While it looks like chaos to an outsider, what I have today is a structure for when my meals start and end, as well as clear boundaries about the food on my plate. This makes parenting easier because I have learned to balance my own needs with those of my kids.
When I put food in its place, blessings abundantly ll my life.
I was disgusted with myself, unattractive to my husband, with a three-year-old and an infant. Life was unmanageable, and I was overcome with anger, fear, resentment, and overwhelm. I could not handle my teaching job, role as a mother and wife, and could not even take care of my basic needs. So, I ate.
That all changed when I joined FA nearly nine years ago. My food is now in order and I’m a healthy weight, but the real gift is the structure. With little kids, it is
What is truly a miracle is that after baby number two, I thought the toll on my body would be too great to have more children. To gain 50 pounds during pregnancy and be powerless to lose it meant that my dream of having more children was unattainable. However, in FA, I went on to have a third healthy pregnancy, abstinently. The weight I gained was the amount doctor’s books say is appropriate but seemed unachievable in my previous pregnancies. My children are the gifts of a program that provides structure for those of us who balance the needs of others with our own. When I put food in its place, blessings abundantly fill my life.
Mindy
S., Washington, US
A New Life
Istarted the journey of food addiction at the age of eight. My mother le my dad and six very young children. I am the oldest and tried hard to help my dad. Food was the only drug available to me at that age, and for some reason, l needed it badly. I didn’t gain weight, but the obsession and craziness ruled my life. I lost babysitting jobs because I could not stop eating, despite the humiliation of the parents asking me to cut back on my eating while in their home.
and quantities.
Food was the only drug available to me at that age, and for some reason, l needed it badly.
I found myself pregnant and married at 16. I thought this would be so much easier than taking care of ve siblings. But the addiction really kicked in and my weight rapidly increased. I was a miserable, angry, hateful wife, mother, sister, daughter, and friend. I would do and say anything to bring the people in my life down to my level of contempt. My mother came back into my life when I was an adult and I watched her die at age 72 from the disease of food addiction, but still, that didn’t stop me from actively seeking out my poison in the form of "our, sugar,
At age 68, I retired with my husband to a very active community in Florida and I knew this was where I would die. I had only four years until I would be the same age when my mother died. I was desperate, hopeless, and joyless when I searched online for another diet. &e website for Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous came on my screen and I knew it described me. I went to my rst meeting. When I walked into a room with thin people, I knew there was hope for me. I got a sponsor that night and today I am almost ve years abstinent.
I could have never dreamed of the life I have today. I play water volleyball daily, got involved in a service organization for veterans, and became active in my church and community. I didn’t know that it was the emotional and spiritual recovery that would be what I was missing through my journey. I now have a quiet mind and a great relationship with my Higher Power. I am at peace. Cathy O., Florida, US
Happy, Joyous, and Free
My sponsor regularly reminds me that I am in recovery to be happy, joyous, and free. My natural state without FA is probably better characterized as irritable, restless, and discontented, with fear, doubt, and insecurity on the side.
I used to wake up dreading the day ahead. I could nd a negative slant on most everything, thus my addiction to food, drugs, alcohol, and ca!eine. I used anything to make me feel better. I was not comfortable in my own skin. I got scared and lonely, and I built mountains out of molehills. I could ruminate and obsess better than almost anyone I knew.
In Program, I learned that I do not have to stay this way. I have a choice. I can adopt a
Peruse the art from this issue; so gorgeous... get a tissue!
new way of life and accept that food, drugs, alcohol, and ca!eine are not the answer. &ey are self-destructive lies that o!er temporary relief at best. I can choose to believe in a power greater than myself that changes my insane behavior, and I can decide if I am desperate and willing enough to seek that power.
So, what is happy, joyous, and free? Happiness, I am told, is a byproduct of right living. I think it’s a form of contentment that comes when I surrender whatever I am holding on to. Joy is that deep sense that everything is fundamentally well inside, that I am "okay," and that I have many blessings to be thankful for. And freedom; I have been given a program that allows me to live free from the bondage of my addiction.
Kristin F., California, US
QUICK, run! (go get your sneakers) FA podcasts need some speakers!
Diggin’ our puzzle jams? It’s time for a cryptogram.
To support the FA membership, the World Service Traditions Review Committee is providing examples of questions they received with responses that aim to offer guiding principles for each of the Twelve Traditions. This is the first article. Look for a new Traditions article in each Connection issue in 2025!
Tradition One: Our common welfare should come first; personal recovery depends on FA unity.
• Since we receive a food plan from our sponsor and that food plan can differ depending on the sponsor, where is the unity around the food?
Our unity comes from our definition of abstinence. Even though some members may eat a different variety of fruits, vegetables, grains, proteins, etc., none of us eat flour or sugar. We avoid personal binge foods and weigh and measure our food.
• My sponsor gave me a letter regarding how she sponsors. I want to put that on the literature table or at least hand it out to all the members who attend my meeting. Is that okay?
This practice goes against Tradition One and is likely to cause group friction. For example, a letter could be misinterpreted, others may have different philosophies, or the author could be viewed as an authority figure or “guru” (also going against Tradition Two, which states that we have no au-
thority figures). A sponsor and sponsee will, of course, share thoughts with one another, but formally distributing letters, thoughts, or food plans can cause disunity at both the meeting level and within FA as a whole. We can only put FA conference approved literature on meeting literature tables.
• I was told that even though virtual meetings were voted to be actual FA meetings at the 2021 World Service Business Convention (WSBC), they aren’t “real” FA meetings and I’m not allowed to go to them.
This conflicts with Tradition Two as well as Tradition One. Our World Service Conference (those who are elected by meetings to have a voice and vote at the annual business convention) makes decisions regarding FA. The results of these decisions are found in the Bylaws and Standing Rules of Order, which state that virtual FA meetings are FA meetings. When members abide by the decisions made at the WSBC by the World Service Conference, they uphold the unity within our fellowship, following Tradition One. In addition, this adheres to Tradition Two because abiding by policies and decisions voted on by the World Service Conference ensures adherence to the group conscience, which guides FA’s actions and policies.
My First Day
“Idon't remember a lot. I was in a fog. But I remember talking to my sponsor the first day and as she rattled off a bunch of phone numbers, I asked, “What do I say to these people?” She replied, “Just tell them that you're new to Program and I told you to call, and they'll do the rest.” And that's what I did! So, I always tell people that the calls are not that scary when we’re new because others will talk the whole time and then you hang up. It was great.”
“I was working at a summer camp and drinking diet sodas the entire day. Getting through from one moment to the next was hard. I kept thinking that I wanted to eat. I would show up for one activity, go back and drink a diet soda, then show up for another activity, have lunch, then show up again. The whole day, I was on edge because I wanted to eat. But I didn't. That's the amazing thing. I didn't eat.”
“I have vivid memories of my first day. I remember eating yogurt and an orange for breakfast, and I hated it. I remember feeling shell shocked and kind of spacey. I don’t recall what I had for lunch or dinner, but I do remember going to bed feeling hopeful and light. Because I knew that nothing had gone into my mouth that wasn't planned, and I felt like a million dollars. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten through a day without overeating. That just blew me away.”
For the next N&Q: How has being in program changed the way you approach New Year’s resolutions? What were your resolutions like before and what are they like now? We’re also interested in how you work your program in those challenging winter months a er the holidays. Email your short response, between one and three sentences, with subject line N&Q to articles@foodaddicts.org. Please include the question to which you are responding.
Staying Connected
Last year I experienced a challenging moment in my life, and I was able to overcome it abstinently.
Doctors discovered abnormal cells in my cervix and I was transferred for a biopsy. I was in shock and scared. &e doctor asked me many questions, including whether I planned to have kids in the future. “Yes, I would love to have kids,” I said. “Well,” the doctor replied, “this procedure may impact the possibility of conceiving in the future.” I wanted to have a family and experience being a mother. I remember feeling so scared and all I could hear during the discussion was that I had cancer, and I wouldn’t be able to have kids. Of course, that’s not what the doctor and midwife were saying. &at was my fear and doubt, my disease in full force, going straight to the worstcase scenario. I prayed quietly in my head, God, please help me.
Before I came to FA, when I was scared, my rst reaction was always negative thinking and then I would comfort myself with food. Now, I don’t have to live that way anymore. In that moment, I saw through my disease of negativity. I le the hospital, feeling terri ed. I felt hungry, and the smells of food on the street were strong. Before FA , I would have
stopped to buy something sweet for comfort. But at that moment, all I wanted was to make an outreach call and connect with someone from the fellowship. Again, I prayed, God, help me! I don’t want to eat.
Once in my car, I called my sponsor, but she didn’t answer. I sent her a message. I tried calling several fellows I regularly talk to andnally, someone who has been in FA for a long time, answered. Her voice felt like the warm hug I needed at that moment. She listened and gently calmed me down. I remember crying and saying that I was really scared. &at phone call saved me from eating "our and sugar that evening.
Over the next eight weeks, while I was waiting for the results from the hospital, every time I felt that fear and negativity I’d connect more to my Higher Power and my fellows. I nally received positive results from the hospital and I’m healthy today.
I use the telephone tool every day, as it helps me to stay connected with other food addicts and stay abstinent. I know I need to speak about what’s going on in my life. I’m sharing about everything because I don’t want to hurt myself with food.
Kasia S., Ireland
Living to Eat
Recently, I took my dog, Thunder, to the veterinarian for his yearly exam. Thunder got excited when he saw the vet tech with treats in her hand. He began to bob up and down on the exam table and his rear kept hitting the light switch, flipping the lights on and off. The vet tech jokingly asked the doctor if he had ever done a wellness exam with a strobe light flashing. The doctor responded, “No, in 30 years, this is my first. Most dogs eat to live, but Thunder lives to eat.”
Ironically, I realized how accurately that described me years ago before I found FA.
Karen W., Washington, US
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the di erence.