I have always loved to take care of kids. I grew up with many cousins and had a younger sister to look after. But food, and the shame and misery of eating, often kept me from being the most present and positive sitter I could be. Many of the children I have looked after in my life have not gotten the best of me during the time I was supposed to be ensuring their safety and seeing that they were entertained and comfortable.

I used to think that every kitchen was my kitchen. It didn’t matter if I barely knew the people. When the adults of the household left for the night, I headed straight to the kitchen. I tried to act like I was interested in the children, but my head was on what was in the refrigerator and the cabinets.

I did a fine job, I thought, of convincing the kids when it was time to eat. I did this mainly because I felt guilty about eating an inhumane amount of their food myself. I justified my eating if the children were eating. I definitely was a food pusher. Some of the kids were really into eating, like me. But with several others, I know they had better ideas than to eat and watch TV the entire time I was there.

Looking back, I didn’t even know how to ask the kids about their interests and what they would like to do. The activities were in the house or waiting to be explored outside. However, I was too distracted by thoughts of my fat stomach and thighs in my overalls (my pre-FA uniform), how the parents were thinking I had gained weight since the last time I saw them, and the food items and the amount of calories I had consumed before arriving. I was so nervous about being around people, even children, that I would often eat large amounts of fattening foods right before I got to a babysitting job. The kids suffered due to my eating and attitude. They didn’t really have much fun, because I was so preoccupied with myself. I also never got to know the children, because I didn’t ask, didn’t share, and didn’t care. I left many a babysitting night with shame, fear, and worry.

My highest weight I saw on the scale was 155 pounds. I binged, starved, and rarely had three meals a day. I ate whenever I had an uncomfortable feeling. I ate instead of resting, and I ate instead of working. I had zits, dry hair, and hated myself all of the time. I loved to eat, but I hated myself afterwards.

Since coming into FA, everything has changed. I have lost 40 pounds. I no longer binge, hate myself, and pretend like I am interested in the children I am obligated to serve. I ask about their lives and try to put myself in their shoes. I have learned this skill from socializing with other food addicts at meetings, asking questions when I get a phone call, and then listening. I have seen my sponsor, and others in Program who have children, use the principles of Program in and outside of their homes. This has taught me so much about how to show up, ask God for help, and simply do the best I can.

It was a miracle the other night when I babysat a five-month old for the first time. The woman of the household told me where the bowls and spoons were for a sugar item she said was available for me to eat. I said, “Oh thank you,” and listened to her other instructions about what to do if the baby cried. I left the kitchen, not giving her food offer a second glance or thought.

Later on that night, I took some quiet time and thought about how wonderful it was not to be sitting on the couch, eating what she said I had “permission” to eat. I had given myself “permission” to eat for far too long and in far too many houses where I babysat. The baby crying that night, one time, would have been enough stress to send me for the bowl and spoon. What a gift it was to go into his room, turn him over on his back (like his dad told me to), and hold him. Quietness was restored in a few moments. Not only was there quietness and peace in the house, but there was quietness and peace in my heart, thanks to God and Program. I hope they ask me to come back.