There’s nothing I hated more than listening to my mom on her outreach calls. I needed a break from my three young daughters. How dare she be chatting, laughing, and connecting with a bunch of strangers on the phone? Many times during the day, her phone would ring and she would excuse herself to take a call. She was also going to meetings when I needed her, spending time with new people I’d never met, and talking about God, letting go, and acceptance as an answer.
“Good for her,” I would say to myself, but, what about me? Adding a new program to her life had taken my mom away from me. I no longer had her full attention and could no longer get what I wanted when I wanted it. I was mad, but also glad that my mom was feeling better about herself. As her body melted into a right-size shape, she started dressing fashionably, and I began to envy her new clothes and new confidence. My mom had never been a trendy dresser; I was the one with a sense of style. More jealousy.
But as time went on and FA became such an important part of my mother’s life, I grew accustomed to her eating and meeting times, the way she ordered at a restaurant, the friends she made, and even the phone calls.
About thirteen years went by like this while my mom was recovering, and I was feeling happy for her, but jealous, confused, struggling with my food and alcohol, overwhelmed by motherhood, and living in a crumbling marriage.
I wished I was skinnier and happier. I had proclaimed myself a vegan and then gluten free. I was going to yoga and trying to jog like I had jogged addictively in college. I was adding marijuana to the mix because it was low in calories.
I would occasionally go to FA meetings with my mom. I felt like an outsider though, not thinking food addiction was an issue for me. I had weighed 210 pounds (95 Kilos) at one time when I was pregnant. With the yoga, the jogs, my strong will to withhold food, and occasional marijuana use, I was able to hover around 170-180 pounds (77-81 Kilos). “Only people that weigh over 200 pounds are food addicts,” I would tell myself.
Frequently my daughters would watch me stand in the kitchen and eat off the counter. They witnessed my mood swings, and they listened to me cry out of sadness and frustration about my unmanageable life.
Then when my oldest daughter was 20, she called me from college to say she wanted to try an FA meeting. She explained she couldn’t stop eating and needed help. Immediately I knew I needed to support her.
So I went to my first FA meeting willingly and have stayed in FA since that day. In the short time I have been in recovery, much has changed in my life. I have been able to see addiction as probably a hereditary disease and have admitted that I am powerless over food. When I eat addictively, my life is unmanageable.
My oldest daughter has left FA, and currently my middle daughter now attends FA meetings near her college campus and is staying abstinent. I have so much gratitude for the Program. I am glad my mom found FA and worked her tools each day. I am glad she made her calls, found new friends, and went to her meetings for all the years I didn’t want to join her.
I’m grateful for the way she has taught me to order in a restaurant and find 30 minutes for prayer and meditation. She has paved the way for me and my daughters to live a life connected to a Higher Power that guides our way, one day at a time.
I can’t predict which one of my daughters will find recovery in FA, but I can hope. I was unwilling for thirteen years, and today I am abstinent. I will continue one-day-at-a-time to work my tools and show my daughters, like my mom shows me, that in FA I have a chance for a good life full of serenity, calm, and freedom from addictive eating.