I have never been a very humble person. I was the oldest in my family and as the first baby, I was adored by everyone. I got very good grades, got the lead in school plays, and was told by many adults how wonderful I was. This did not do much to grow my humility bone.

When my father passed away when I was only 10 years old, my friends’ parents were amazed at how well I continued to achieve in school. I rarely missed any days of school and continued to get perfect grades. (I wasn’t above cheating to maintain the appearance of my perfect grades.)

But all this high achieving early in life set up a major character defect to take root —perfection. I began to feel that if I couldn’t be perfect, I was nothing. This became a breeding ground for my food addiction to blossom.

I used many techniques to control my weight and stay “perfect.” Some of the tricks I used to get the scale to move included obsession with my body weight and the scale, over exercising, restricting food, taking diet pills, and practicing bulimia. I had a very hard time owning up to the fact that I couldn’t be perfect 100% of the time.

About two days before I came into FA, I had a serious knee injury and lost my ability to walk. This was my first lesson in humility. I felt like an idiot not being able to walk and having to care for my seven-month old baby and two-year-old toddler. I felt like a failure as a mother. Deep down I knew I had done this to myself by continuing my punishing exercise regimen at over 200 pounds.

My second lesson in humility came when I was in FA for about seven weeks. I had just had  knee surgery, and I hobbled into a meeting on my crutches. I was called on to read the promises of the program and I limped up to the front of the meeting on my crutches. When I got to the words, “…and we suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves,” I broke down in tears. I sobbed as I read that line because I realized that I had done nothing to deserve this gift that was so freely given to me: the precious gift of weight loss.

I had lost 20 pounds by this point, without a bit of exercise. All I had done was to surrender to the food plan my sponsor had given me and the weight melted off. I didn’t need to exercise. I didn’t need to work hard. I simply needed to let go and turn it over to God. And it worked! I felt that I had been given a gift. I wasn’t hungry in between my meals. I felt satisfied with the food plan. It was a dream come true.

I began to realize that during all the hard times in my life, including the death of my father, I hadn’t been alone. I hadn’t gotten wonderful grades and perfect attendance because of my own willpower and greatness. Perhaps God had been with me the entire time, guiding me and watching out for me.

Before FA, I could not own up to my mistakes. I felt too ashamed and was convinced I was a horrible person. I worked hard to cover up mistakes or deny I had ever made a one. Admitting a wrong was unthinkable. Working the Twelve Steps has taught me that I am human and that everyone makes mistakes. When I mess up now, I simply make an amend and go on with my day. I no longer subscribe to the erroneous belief that I am so much better or worse than other people. It is a relief to be a normal human who does not have to be perfect.

Often in meetings I hear members give credit to their Higher Power. I now understand why. I do not ever want to take credit for what I have been granted in the FA program. It is only my Higher Power that could have lifted my obsession with food and my weight. I am grateful to have the humility to know this. My humility bone is growing and getting stronger each day I am abstinent.