Another diet stopped working It never occurred to me that I ate for any other reason aside from loving food. I loved the taste, the texture, the look, the smell, and especially the quantities. I was a skinny kid, but I started using food as a drug after I was molested at age 16. I went to my first Weight Watcher’s meeting at age 17, with ten pounds to lose. After 30 years of yo-yo dieting, I was 60 pounds overweight when I found my way into Overeaters Anonymous (OA). I joined 90-Day OA (the precursor to FA). I felt right at home the first time I heard someone share about what flour and sugar did to them. I identified with all the feelings they were describing. Prior to this, I never was able to express what I was feeling. All I could do was to either react, or check... Continue Reading
When I came into FA in Feb 2007, I was 205 pounds. I didn’t have any “family drama” because I had moved far away from my family. What I didn’t realize was that the drama still existed in my mind and in my heart. Until I could make peace with my family members and accept them for what they were, I would continue to eat. I grew up in a house where I was told all sorts of things about my weight and appearance. I was told that I was big-boned and curvy, and that I had fat people on both sides of the family. I was told that I was always going to have to watch every single thing I put into my mouth, that our family doesn’t have fast metabolisms, and that I would never look like one of those skinny toothpick girls. I was the oldest of... Continue Reading
As soon as my twin baby girls were big enough to eat bite-sized food with their fingers, but before they could talk, they developed that peculiar toddler tendency of urgently thrusting food up to my mouth and offering to feed it to me. My refrains of, “No, you eat it,” and, “No thank you,” were starting to wear thin. I was in danger of feeling sorry for myself for continually having to rebuff their adorable, well-meaning efforts to share food with me and connect in that way. One day God graced me with a solution that completely reframed the meaning of their gesture. Now, when they hold their food up to me with an expectant look, instead of assuming they’re saying, “Mommy, do you want to eat this?” I assume they’re saying, “Mommy, what’s this called?” I joyfully name that food. How do they respond? They pop it into their... Continue Reading
I recently was at a birthday party for my oldest grandson. My daughter’s house was full of family and friends. My niece, who might be a food addict, is not interested in recovery at this time in her life (I sure wasn’t at 27 either). She can be difficult. In a room full of people, my niece said to me, “I could smack you for interrupting me again. You always are interrupting me!” I looked at her and thought she was showing no respect for me, and I was mad. In the past I would have said something to her to “set her straight.” I wanted to say something to my daughter, my sister (her mother), and anyone who would listen, about this rude behavior. I wanted to play the victim, but I did nothing except smile and walk out of the room to make a call to an FA... Continue Reading
I had 25 minutes to get to my doctor’s appointment across town. I decided the bus was faster than taking the subway. My lighter body took me to the bus stop quickly. Having lost 96 pounds, running felt so good that I kept running. Well, I got to the bus stop, but the bus was late. I was disappointed. I waited. When the driver finally arrived, he announced that he wanted to take a five-minute break. I thought, “A break! I have to be somewhere!” So I took off running to the subway. As pedestrians started to blur and sirens screamed past, a small thought whispered: Is this abstinent behavior? Am I getting a high from all of my hurrying? I got off the subway and ran four blocks uphill. Sweaty and out of breath, I arrived at the building just as the bus rolled by. Easy does it never... Continue Reading
