Elementary school is not a time I look back on fondly, but the day I got to go to school wearing my Halloween costume and my big wax lips made up for all the times in between. I was in the second grade, and it was all about standing in lines. Line up for recess, line up for lunch, line up to go back into the classroom, line up, and line up some more. Standing in the line to go back into the classroom from recess, and proudly wearing my wax lips, a classmate reached over from the boys’ side of the line, yanked the lips out of my mouth, and put them in his own. Before he had a chance to clamp down, I reached over to his line and punched him in the nose. His mouth opened to wail in pain, and the lips fell onto the playground. ... Continue Reading
After burning the candle at both ends, I received an opportunity to get closer to God and to my program. It started as a sore throat and a small cold that didn’t seem like a big deal. Instead of taking the time to let my body heal completely, I continued to push through. This seemed logical to me because my symptoms were lessening, and I usually got lucky when it came to being sick. However, a week or so later, I was starting to feel worse again – I was starting to lose my voice from the sore throat I had, and the congestion was building. Despite a coworker’s gentle nudge that I might need antibiotics due to my hacking cough, I was having a battle of wills concerning my weekend plans. By Saturday, I couldn’t get my coworker’s loving suggestion out of my head, and as God would have... Continue Reading
My insanity around food began at an early age. The flour and sugar products were my specialty, and since my family owned a bakery where I spent many hours of my young life, I didn’t have to work very hard to get my favorite sweets. My metabolism ran high, and I was always running, skating, swimming or climbing trees, so the fat didn’t stick and I couldn’t understand why my obese mother and brother couldn’t just stop eating so much and slim down. Being judgmental began at an early age indeed. As I became a teenager, my attraction to the quantities and sweets grew along with me. However, being short made it even harder because only a few pounds made me feel really huge. Those 5 or 10 pounds weighed heavily on my ego. That feeling of “less than” was pervasive in every area of my life. If I... Continue Reading
I joined FA 5 years ago when I was 43, 5’4.5” and 226 lbs. (102.5 kilos). I was also on antidepressants and pre-diabetic, depressed, angry and full of self-pity. I lashed out at my husband and people at work, none of whom seemed to do enough to help me. I had a stable home and job, a husband and two healthy children. There seemed to be so much to be grateful for and yet I was miserable. Could this be all there was to life? There must be more to it as I saw many other people who appeared to be happily engaged with life. My anger and frustration only seemed to deepen and I was behaving towards others in ways that I didn’t recognize. I was getting in trouble at work, and was contemplating divorce. I kept snacks in the trunk of my car, just in case. I... Continue Reading
The door to the plane closes, and I sigh. It’s the end of an almost three-week trip to the U.S. While visiting family in Cleveland, I attended my old FA meetings, and was welcomed by lots of familiar faces as well as a few new ones. I sat next to people who have been in their right-sized bodies, and growing in their recovery for years now. During my time in Cleveland I was invited to a bridal shower for one of the fellows I used to see at my weekly FA meetings. This fellow joined the program at age 19, and has literally grown up in recovery. I got together with FA friends that I saw regularly in the past for walks, tea dates, and shared abstinent meals. Although I didn’t have great cell-phone reception (after all, my phone plan is no longer from a U.S.-based carrier), I did manage... Continue Reading
