Stories of Recovery


These stories were originally published in the Connection, FA's monthly magazine written by food addicts, for food addicts. Each post shares a different author's perspective. Visit this page often to read more experience, strength, and hope about recovery in FA. To get the newest issue of Connection Magazine sent directly to your mailbox or inbox, click here to subscribe to the Connection.

My classmates made comments about my weight.

When I was a senior in high school, I heard about a Twelve-Step program for people who felt they needed help with food issues. I was tired of not succeeding with diets. I was tired of dreaming of the day I would be all grown up, have a family, and finally have the time to deal with my weight. I had been affected by food from a young age. When I was small, I remember sneaking it even though it was free for the taking in my house. If someone entered the room while I was eating, I tried to hide it. I often lied about having already eaten at my grandmother’s house when my mother offered me dinner at home. I wanted more. I matured early and was bigger than most of my friends. I felt really awkward in my body. I always felt too big. Although my friends... Continue Reading

 


 

Right Off the Rack

Now that I inhabit a right-size body, I can do so much that I couldn’t do at 200 pounds when I came into FA. Oh, the wonders of working this program—little miracles every day. I can actually go into a fitting room and try on clothes, cute clothes off the rack in single-digit sizes. In dressing rooms, I don’t have to look at my awful image in the mirror and get overheated and sweaty in the tight space. I can get cool clothes at thrift shops, at bargain prices. My clothes actually fit on the hangers, so I don’t have to look at my clothes hanging all crooked and falling to the floor every time I try to find something that fits. And I can fit so much more into my suitcase when I travel!

 


 

Showing Up

Seventeen years ago when I first saw Penny, a beautiful Chihuahua, with her brothers and sisters eating spaghetti, I said, “Oh boy, she is the one.” I had her on my lap as we went home over the George Washington Bridge. She got up and put her little paws on the dashboard to look at her new surroundings. As I watched her, I knew she was going to be a lot of fun, and she did bring us joy for many years. From New Jersey and now Florida, through all of our trials and tribulations, dieting, and moves, she’s been with us. Then things became challenging. My husband and I had been on Nutrisystem. I was 5 feet tall, 217 pounds, and desperate. I found FA at a health fair in Daytona Beach, Florida. There they were, a booth of friendly people with just the information I needed. I picked... Continue Reading

 


 

It’s About Time

They call ours the disease of more, and besides wanting to eat more, this addict also always wanted to do more. As a result, most of my life is littered with memories of running late, probably because I always overcommitted. I frequently planned the impossible, trying to fit everything in. The most horrifying memory I have of running late is from long before I joined FA. I was in my mid-30s, a single mother of two, living on a housing project in southeast London.  My son and daughter, ten and seven, were latchkey kids. They would walk home together from school, let themselves into the flat, call me at work, and make themselves a snack. Then they’d head back out onto the playground to play with friends until I got home, usually just an hour later. One particular Thursday I decided to meet up at a pub after work with... Continue Reading

 


 

Courtroom Calm

Last year I was reporting on one of the biggest murder cases of the past decade, and I made the most basic of errors: I made an assumption about a legal issue. The assumption turned to fact in my head, and I never checked whether or not it was true. It wasn’t. I reported on the case and so broke the law of contempt. This was the biggest mistake of my career. Bigger than when I was eating addictively and would regularly be late because I had to stop at the drive-thru on the way to work, despite having just finished breakfast. Bigger than when I would spend most of the day in the office toilet, crying. Bigger even than when I was eventually fired for being “rude, abrupt, and causing a bad feeling.” (I was always a joy when I was in the food!) The first I heard about... Continue Reading