A Story of Recovery:

Temptation Trashed

My daughter’s thirtieth birthday was earlier this month, and she wanted a special family birthday. She asked me to invite the whole family for the entire day to celebrate, play board games, watch home movies, hang out, and eat family meals together. Although I usually serve guests the same food as I eat, this time I did end up cooking two other special dishes for my family. They finished one of the dishes, but there were leftovers of a special Jewish dish that was a tradition in my family when I was growing up.

When everyone left that evening, I kept asking them to take the leftovers, but they did not. There I was with the leftover dish. I stood in my kitchen with thoughts racing in my head about maybe freezing it, or using it as a base for something that I could cook for my family. I even considered giving it to someone or throwing it out, but for me, throwing food out is like breaking an unwritten eleventh commandment—it is like blasphemy! Throwing even spoiled food out is hard for me, but to throw out fresh, delectable food is unbearable— especially this special dish.

When I was growing up, we did not throw food out, because we did not have food to throw out. Before FA, I ate all the food on my plate and I finished the food on everyone else’s plate.  If there was leftover food I would eat it, even if I was full, so it would not go to waste or spoil. If I cooked too much for company, which I always did, then I would clean up by eating the leftovers, especially if there was not enough space in the refrigerator or if there was not enough to freeze. I cleaned up all the way to 218 pounds!

As a child, I used to get excited waiting for this slow-cooking dish to be done. The food aroma would fill the house, and I was giddy with anticipation. I would open the oven to take a taste and eat it not yet fully cooked because I was so inpatient. I once ate it hot from the oven and scalded the roof of my mouth. I would eat it standing up by the stove to the point that I was so full that I needed to purge just to make room to breathe. Then I would go back and continue to eat more.

Early in Program, I had a break eating this very dish. I was on the phone with a fellow who was telling me about her divorce, and I got so uncomfortable and scared that I grabbed a spoon, reached into the pot, and ate while I was listening to her story. When we hung up, I called my sponsor.

I was told in Program to ask G-d for help to throw out food when it was not my food if there was no one else to eat it. The first time I threw out food, I felt like apologizing to my holocaust survivor parents for my sin. I felt scared and very vulnerable as I was putting the food in the garbage. But I also felt relief and peace of mind when I got rid of it.

So after nearly nine years in FA and a 100-pound weight loss, I found myself alone in my kitchen with this special dish. I grabbed the pot and threw it in the garbage disposal. It felt so right and I felt so grateful. For me to choose not to hurt myself with food is recovery. For me to look at this through the lens of what supports my recovery—not my fear—is growth!