Food Addicts In Recovery Anonymous Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous

My whole life was about dieting, restricting, and waiting to be thin. When I’m thin, then I’ll be happy, I thought. I was sure Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) was not for me – too time consuming, and there was that whole “higher power” thing. I’ll just go to the gym more often and I’ll keep doing this commercial weight-loss program, I told myself. In actuality, my "weight loss program" meant going to the bakery, buying a dozen items, eating half, and throwing the other half out the car window on the way home. Dieting got me up to 185 pounds, and I was constantly at war with myself. It was my grown daughters who first joined FA, and I watched as they both lost weight and became more sensible people, unrecognizable from when they started the program. It took me seven long years of thinking about FA before I was convinced. By then, I was so desperate that I followed every suggestion my sponsor offered. I lost 50 pounds, and my life got better. At 78, I am a healthier person both mentally and physically, living a happy, productive life. 

Standing at the refrigerator looking for something—anything—to change the way I felt, I heard myself admit, “I do not know how to eat,” and I started to cry. Ironically, I was the class clown, the jokester, and above all, I wanted you to like me. I lost weight after gaining the freshman 50 in college, and I thought that would solve my problems. It didn’t. Then, I thought getting married would make everything better. It didn’t. In another Twelve Step program, I listened to people talk about obsession, compulsion, and negative thinking. My truth was that I knew all of these things were very much alive in me. I also realized that I was sitting in those meetings high on sugar, wondering, am I really even sober? When I joined Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA), I was given the gift of open-mindedness. Having always been a rebel and a hippie, I liked to do things my way. In FA, a still, small voice said, “Take your sponsor’s suggestions.” It was then I decided not to joke around anymore, and no questioning, litigating, or fighting either. To my surprise, I’ve found amazing freedom in that. Today, I live in a healthy body, with a spirit that shines.

At the age of thirty and weighing 207 pounds, I was living a hopeless life. My existence was one of self-loathing, never feeling like I belonged. As a young person, I started hiding food, which began a cycle of guilt and shame over my eating. I fantasized that by going away to college I would make myself over into a new person. Instead, college was defined by a lot of eating, a lot of drinking, and a lot of crushes on men who didn’t know I was alive. After graduating, I continued finding myself in unfulfilling relationships and jobs that sucked the life out of me. When you think you are worthless, it’s really hard to make rational decisions. When I finally found Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA), my sponsor encouraged me to talk about myself instead of hiding behind a protective, permanent grin. I learned to put myself and my recovery first. In FA, I grew physically smaller - by 60 pounds! - but my voice grew much larger. In fact, I’m singing again, which is bringing me great joy. Today, I am becoming someone I never even dreamt I could be, and I couldn’t be more thankful.

At nine years old, eating five meals a day and snacking in between, I thought I was ugly and I hated my body. In high school, at 217 pounds, my friends thought I was the strong one, but I never really showed what was happening inside. My twenties were a complete blur. I started a new diet every Monday morning, but by 10 a.m., I’d say, “forget it.” I’d try again on Tuesday without any luck, and by Wednesday, I’d rationalize – “It’s almost the weekend, so I’ll just start again next Monday.” Repeat, repeat, repeat. Diets, self-help books, podcasts, motivational speeches, yoga retreats, I even became a life coach – and wound up at 265 pounds. Then, I met a woman who’d been in Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) for over twenty years. When she shared how much she loved herself, I decided right then – “Whatever she’s doing, I’m doing it, too.” Today, I’m in a healthy body, I’ve found peace and joy in living, and I truly love myself. It feels like a miracle the way FA has transformed my entire life. Believe me, FA works. And if I can do this, so can you.

I was just miserable. Ashamed. Desperate. Somehow, I had eaten my way to being 80 pounds overweight. What I could wear on a Friday wouldn’t fit by Sunday night. Willpower is something I have in spades, but I was no match for the phenomenon of craving that occurred when my addiction to food kicked in. In truth, I was a person of great extremes, and at one point in my life, I had restricted my way down to an unhealthy 103 pounds. The turning point came when I found Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA), and the relief was immediate. I came to a meeting and found a sponsor who helped guide me through the program. I learned that weight was a symptom of a deeper disease that affected how I was making life decisions. In FA, I lost weight and, more importantly, learned to accept who I am. I’ve learned to cut other people (and myself) some slack, I am a more forgiving person, and I have a far greater sense of peace and serenity. I have learned how to sit with discomfort without eating my way through it. Now, I can show up for my life, regardless of the challenges thrown my way.

Plagued by a lifetime of anxiety and repeated hospitalizations for depression, this transgender man took refuge in food. As his addiction progressed, everyday tasks and the most basic self-care seemed impossible. With anger issues escalating at work, diabetes so out of control he was losing his eyesight, and thousands of dollars spent on therapy, things were only getting worse. He knew he couldn’t continue eating addictively, but he simply could not stop. This, he said, was a loneliness like no other. At his first Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) meeting, he realized that he was not broken and he was not alone. In FA, he found a whole new life -- a life of peace and freedom that he never dreamed possible.