I am extraordinarily grateful to be standing here doing service for this program, and to be able to say with great humility that I am 16 years away from sugar, flour, and compulsively using food as a drug. I have been in the same body size all these years, which in itself is an unbelievable miracle. I was never at the same weight for two weeks straight in my entire life.
My life has completely changed since I came into this program.
I grew up in a home where my mother, as I have come to learn through recovery, had our addiction. Her closet ranged from size 12 to 22. I was one of four children: a sister three years older, another sister 11 months younger, and a brother who came along when I was 12. We grew up in a nice, middle-class family, but what I remember most from my childhood is fear. I have come to understand that food addiction is a bona fide problem, like alcohol addiction, and that it also involves a disease of fear, doubt, and insecurity. Before I became abusive with food, I can clearly identify myself as someone who lived with fear, doubt, and insecurity my entire life.
I never felt like I belonged anywhere. I always felt different, inadequate, like I didn’t measure up, or sometimes that I was better than others. I was never just one of the group. As a child, I remember being very frightened.
I was very insecure growing up, and yet I had what I needed to live. My family was loving, but my mother had this disease, and she could be unpredictable. Sometimes she would scream, yell, and behave in frightening ways, and other times she would hug us and tell us we were precious and wonderful. I wasn’t lacking love. This disease isn’t about a lack of love; it’s about a lack inside of me.
I now understand that my problem was an emptiness that could not be filled by love, food, or attention. There was never enough of anything. I know today that this emptiness can only be filled by this program, by God, and by living the right way and doing the right things. That is where my happiness comes from now, but I didn’t know that then. I was searching for happiness my entire life.
In high school, my first drug was my boyfriend. As long as I had someone to hide behind and something to look forward to, I didn’t have to deal with life. When he went away, I fell apart. I believed I was going to die, and that’s when my addiction really took off. I crossed the line quickly from a problem eater to a food addict. Once I put the food in my mouth, there was no stopping.
When I went to college, my weight problem began. Within a couple of months, I gained 20 pounds without understanding how it happened. Looking back, I know exactly how it happened. I had no coping skills, so I turned to alcohol, food, men, and cigarettes all at once. I wasn’t functioning academically, I had anxiety attacks, and I believe I had a nervous breakdown that semester.
That’s also when my obsession with being thin began. I believed that if I were thin, I would be happy, confident, and able to relate to others. From the age of 19 until I walked through these doors at 27, that was my mission. I wanted to eat and be thin at the same time. I wanted everything.
I isolated, kept things to myself, and constantly felt less than. I tried to keep up with others in ways that were not right for me. I engaged in behaviors that destroyed my self-esteem, and I ate and drank over the shame. I felt like a victim, even though I willingly put myself in those situations. I went to any length to be accepted because of how much I hated myself, and that hurt both me and others.
I was depressed and miserable despite having a good education, a job, friends, and family. I would go out, feel disappointed, come home, and eat late into the night. I ate sugar, flour, grease, and large quantities with abandon. There was never such a thing as “too much” for me. No amount of food could fill the emptiness inside me.
I was smoking, drinking, eating compulsively, and mentally very sick. I fantasized about my death, imagining who would cry at my funeral. That brought me comfort at the time, even though it was incredibly selfish. I am so grateful I am not in that place today.
When I talk about who I was then, it feels like I’m talking about another person. It is unbelievable how weighing and measuring food can change an entire life. I don’t need to understand it. I only know that I was miserable and unable to stop hurting myself. When I surrendered to this program, I became happy.
From ages 19 to 27, I was obsessed with diets. I spent thousands of dollars, joined every program I could find, and resented thin people everywhere. I would follow a diet perfectly until something minor happened, and then I would lose all control and binge again. I didn’t know then that I was addicted to food. Learning that this wasn’t a moral failure but a disease was music to my ears.
A large part of my eating was tied to fear of speaking and stuttering. I stayed quiet for years because I didn’t want to appear imperfect. That fear kept me from being myself. Through recovery, I have learned to accept who I am, stutter and all, and I am grateful that I no longer have to eat over it.
As my disease progressed, I became more isolated. When my mother was diagnosed with cancer, my eating escalated. I would stop at multiple fast-food places and convince myself it didn’t count. I starved myself during the day and binged later. I lived in extremes.
One of my last binges was eating compulsively while crying and feeling completely powerless. I didn’t want the food, yet I had to have it. That was the epitome of addiction.
Eventually, desperation and willingness brought me back to a meeting. When I finally surrendered, my life changed drastically. I learned that I wasn’t a bad person, that I was sick, and that there was a solution. I immersed myself in meetings, followed directions, and learned how to live day by day.
I learned to weigh and measure my food, to ask God what to do next, and to rely on guidance instead of my own will. Over time, I developed a relationship with God and a sense of peace I had never known.
This program gave me a life I never thought possible. I found unconditional acceptance, grew emotionally, and learned how to live without food controlling me. I have been blessed with a loving marriage and a beautiful child. I live a full, joyful life today.
The solution to every problem I face is the same: ask God for help, practice gratitude, and help another person. What matters most to me now is helping another food addict. I don’t have to hide anymore. I can live honestly and openly.
I am deeply grateful for this fellowship and for a program that gives me the courage to grow, to be uncomfortable, and to keep moving forward. I practice daily disciplines, connect with others, and make gratitude a way of life.
I used to believe serenity was for boring people. Today, I know serenity is freedom. I have a rich, full life, and none of it would be possible without this program.
I was once empty, afraid, and hopeless. Today, I am grateful, connected, and free. I appreciate the opportunity to share my recovery, and I hope it helps someone else. Thank you.