Measuring Up
“Do you think I’m fat?” This is what I used to ask my relatives when I was only about five years old. I would run around the house, asking the opinion of relatives about whether or not I should be on a diet. I was always thinking that my clothes didn't look good on me. I don’t remember a time when I was not ashamed of my body or when I felt good about myself.
As I got older, my obsession progressed. As a teenager, I smoked marijuana and I ate. I was a picky eater, especially about condiments and textures, even though I ate unhealthy foods. I had rituals around fatty and sweet foods. I got bigger and bigger. My first year of high school was horrible because I had to buy my school clothes at a store that sold bigger sizes. I was always on a diet, but most never lasted past lunchtime. In my last years of high school, my disease continued to progress, and I tried anything to keep my weight in check.
I used cocaine, diet pills, caffeine, nicotine, and sex to try to get slim, but nothing worked.
I don’t remember a time when I was not ashamed of my body or when I felt good about myself.
Upon graduation, I was in a relationship with a man five years my senior, who was also a food addict. He later became the father of my oldest son. We smoked pot together and experimented with cooking. I loved the fact that he prepared food for me. I believed it was his way of showing me love. The downside was that he was also addicted to pornography, and I was constantly comparing myself to the women in the magazines and videos. I never measured up. I was very insecure.
After giving birth to my son, I started another diet and exercise plan. This time I was partially successful. I got down to about a size 10/12 and stayed there for a few months. That was pretty good for a yo-yo dieter like me. Nevertheless, the weight came back, along with a progressing drug addiction. From the time my son
was five until he was fourteen, my drug addiction was out of control. The food addiction was still there, festering. I got clean and sober at age 34. I put down the drugs and picked up the fork with a vengeance. I got married, had another son, and my weight continued to climb.
My pregnancy weight reached a high of 221 pounds. On my 5-foot, 3-inch frame, I had begun to feel the weight in a new way. My knees hurt, I was tired all the time, and I was experiencing severe depression. Over the seven years after my youngest was born, I was miserable, depressed, afraid of life, and getting less and less successful at dieting. I lost hope. I tried everything I knew, but I couldn't drop the weight.
I am actively surrendering on a just-for-today basis.
I heard about FA from a fellow in another recovery program. She was adamant that it was the only thing that worked for addicts like us. After much hesitation, I went to an FA meeting. I did not believe I was a food addict. I knew I was an alcoholic and drug addict, but food—no way. Food felt like the last thing I had to hold onto, but it was the hardest to give up. I tried the program and lost 47 pounds in seven months. I believed that was plenty and that I had done “enough.” I decided to leave FA and do it on my own. Ha! The
thought of that now makes me reel in terror. FA is a "we" program, and I learned, after a year of doing more "research," that I am a food addict and have always reacted to life situations by eating addictively. I came back to FA several years later. I am actively surrendering on a just-for-today basis. I believe with all my heart that I am a food addict. My life has changed in so many ways. I was afraid of everything about myself—behaviors, thoughts, and actions. I could not trust myself or make a commitment. FA has allowed me to learn to make commitments and keep my word. By showing up for three committed meetings, calling my sponsor on time, and, most importantly, weighing and measuring my food, I demonstrate commitment. Practicing commitment has allowed me to save money and purchase my own home.
Service to others has taught me how to be grateful. The outreach calls help with self-centeredness and my tendency to isolate. I am also learning how to set boundaries and communicate on a deeper level. FA has radically changed my life. For this, I am so very grateful.
Joan T., California, US
Ending the Drama
“Am I really a food addict?” I asked myself this question many times during my first few months in FA. I never had cravings for food other than my abstinent meals. I did not feel an urge to eat between meals. Nor did I obsess about certain foods. Abstinence was quite easy, I thought. However, it was difficult for me to trust my sponsor. For example, it was hard to refrain from eating a certain protein when she told me not to eat it. I resisted the guidance to consume an entire portion of a food item at one meal instead of dividing it in half to split between breakfast and lunch. I thought, Those FA people are just rigid and do not understand! I called other FA members, three a day, and drove the whole fellowship crazy with my questions. Why is this product not okay since it has no flour or sugar? Then I would research different food items from the National Institute for Nutrition and wonder why FA dif-
fered from their authority and opinions. Perhaps I am not a food addict after all , I thought. Isn’t eliminating bread a bit crazy? Even the Lord’s Prayer suggests eating bread!
I reached 90 days of abstinence and took stock: I had a clear mind, most of my rage was gone, and I looked at the world with !iendly eyes.
Nevertheless, I worked my tools rigorously, went to three meetings, kept my mouth shut, reluctantly prayed, and called three people a day to tell them how confusing this FA business was for me. I reached 90 days of abstinence and took stock: I had a clear mind, most of my rage was gone, and I looked at the world with friendly eyes. I made a couple of friends in FA. I had taken on my first small cleaning job. All of this was new. I was experiencing a quality of life that I had never known before. Maybe I am a food addict, after all, I thought. Yet I continued to struggle with feelings of sensitivity and anger. I was still quick to blame my environment when I felt disturbed. I realized these were threats to my newfound abstinence.
I participated in my first AWOL, but it didn’t make much of a difference. I wondered why people made such a big fuss about AWOLs. At that time, I avidly rejected the idea that I was “insane.” I rolled my eyes when certain things were shared. The practice of admitting character defects scared me. But I hung in there and, over time, the fog of denial lifted.
A.A. literature taught me about the nature of my disease, and ugly memories rose from the dark crannies of my consciousness. I had been bingeing and throwing up from age 18 to 32. Although I finally stopped purging, I continued being a ferocious binge eater. I stole food and took it out of garbage cans. I had such intense cravings that I could not concentrate on work and had to leave to satisfy the urge at a bakery. I yelled at people on a stalled train because I was delayed in reaching a food vendor. I had hysterical seizures when I craved something or was
stuffed like a pig. Often, I hit myself in the face in front of the mirror. I could not leave the house without food in my bag to eat on the train. I was prone to isolation, cynicism, depression, and negativity. At age 38, my family and work relations were nil. I had many relationships with men that ended quickly and in drama.
Studying the Twelve Steps turned me around. They taught me to relate to and trust in a Higher Power. They gave me a positive outlook on life and restored family relations. I can work and make a living today, which is no small miracle. I am walking through the steps abstinently with a group of dedicated people with whom I keep in touch between meetings. As a result, I have long-standing friendships with other recovering food addicts. I attended several FA conventions. Traveling abroad had been unthinkable for me before FA. Today, I am aware of the good and bad June 2025
MARGARETE N., NJ
within me, and I know that I am okay. I am quick to admit when I am wrong, and I can apologize when I step on someone’s toes. I am not afraid of admitting a mistake. I am afraid to speak up for myself sometimes, but I am working on it with the help of my sponsor.
Apart from the daily tools of FA, AWOL is an insurance against the food addiction that destroyed many years of my life. I am just about to start my eighth AWOL in abstinence. I still have lots of problems. I come to this step study with a broken heart due to incest and domestic violence in childhood, which I humbly pray to my Higher Power to mend. In abstinence, I no longer push these issues aside. I sometimes still feel isolated and aggrieved with pain from the past. But I am abstinent. And I want to stay abstinent and continue to let God and people into my life. I am learning to let go of control and let God guide me. I still try to control so much in my life, but I have come a long way. I am grateful to be of service to people at work and not just make money for a living. Above all, it is my heartfelt wish that, through studying the steps, I can become even more useful and efficient in carrying the message of FA to those who still suffer. I hope to give back some of what has been so generously given to me in FA.
We admitted we were powerless over food – that our lives had become unmanageable.
Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to food addicts and to practice these principles in all our a airs.
Working for God
Icame to FA a!er having weight-loss surgery. I initially lost 94 pounds a!er the surgery, but it didn’t ease my mental obsession with food. "en, the number on the scale started to climb back up and I had to admit I was out of control. Although I thought I was only seeking self-control in FA, I lost another 40 pounds. I couldn’t believe I was to live a new life as a healthy size 4 rather than the almost crippling size 24 I used to be. I thought what worked in FA was about self-control, but it was self-care.
When I came into FA in 2008, I didn’t have a God in my life, unless you consider the sugar and alcohol items that I would do anything for. I worshipped them like a god. "e woman who introduced me to FA asked if I was willing to believe there was a power greater than myself. She said it didn’t have to be a traditional deity, like the creator of the universe, it just had to be greater than I was. I look back and realize I was arrogant, but not so much to nominate myself for the greatest-being role. So, I said yes, I was willing to believe in something greater than myself. About a year into Program, I lost my wellpaying job. I had credit card debt, a substantial mortgage payment, and no income. My sponsor told me to trust God to support me through this time. I didn’t like this reliance
upon a power greater than me. I wanted to have faith and relax, but I needed to do something. My sponsor suggested that I take the next right action and do what was in front of me. She said my job was to spend as much time each day looking for work as I would have spent working.
I spent hours, weeks, and months painstakingly applying for jobs online, revamping my resume and cover letters, all in the isolation of my home. I didn’t eat addictively. Surprisingly, I didn’t consider eating our and sugar, but I would frequently check my notebook containing my food plan, making sure my next meal was ready to go. I didn’t deviate from my committed food or meal times. My sponsor suggested many things, from contacting temp agencies to applying at major retail chains for service positions. Inwardly, I snarled, and outwardly, I resisted, saying, “ "ey won’t hire me, I’m over-quali$ed.” Her answer was, “Just try.” Several weeks passed as I tried to establish myself as an independent contractor. "at was frustrating. I still didn’t eat, but I obsessed over my next meal. As I was eating lunch, I was thinking about dinner. But I waited until it was time to eat.
My mother, whom I had not seen in over 30 years, became very ill in England. I used
what was le! on a credit card to visit her before she died. I came back a week later, even further in debt. But still, I kept to my food plan.
Finally, I became willing to go to temp agencies. "ey agreed that I was over-quali$ed, and few employers would hire a former six-$gure executive to do a $10 per hour clerical position. I told them I’d take any job and would be the best person they’d ever sent out. I needed to work and would not turn down anything. I got a two-day position as a $le clerk for the local wastewater plant. I sat outside in my car almost in tears and made an outreach call. “I cannot believe it has come to this. So much for faith,” I said. "e woman I called very calmly said, “Wendy, you are not
working for the wastewater plant today. You are not working for $10 an hour today." I brightened, thinking she was suggesting I leave and go home. "You are working for God today," she said. "Just ask God to show you how to do your best today.” I didn’t have a better idea. I quickly prayed, “Okay God, show me what you have in store for me.”
On the second day there, I was asked to return next week for a bigger project, but the temp agency said they had something else for me. Over the following two weeks, I worked for a public relations company, performing a telephone survey for a local politician. "ey, too, wanted me back, but the agency had an entry-level job in my career $eld. It turns out that I knew the women I
LOU C., NY
would be working for. "ey insisted on paying more to get me than they would have paid for someone they didn’t know.
I took my weighed and measured meals with me at each job. I stopped obsessing about the next meal and started to see how my humility in accepting the $rst position had led to several months of work at signi$cantly increased rates of pay. In fact, my pay rate had almost tripled. "e job turned into a three-month assignment at an even higher rate of pay. "en they had an open permanent position, for which I applied and was turned down. “God has three answers,” I was told by an FA friend. "Yes, later, and I’ve got something better for you.” I couldn’t imagine anything better was waiting for me.
I continued with the grind of sending out resumes. My phone rang one a!ernoon. It was a consulting $rm that was planning on expanding, and they wanted to know if I’d like to be a subcontractor. My initial reaction was that they just wanted access to my meager client list and would then boot me out. Eventually, they o ered me a full-time contract for three to four months, starting the next day. "e manager asked my hourly rate and I told him an amount $20 more than I was charging anyone else, expecting him to negotiate, but he agreed. I started the next day.
I paid o my credit cards and bought a car. A year and a half later, I received a bona-$de job o er, in my profession, at close to my for-
mer salary, $ve miles from my front door, working for a woman I had known professionally for 15 years. I accepted the job, which was to start in two weeks. "en, unexpectedly, I was contacted by one of the managers at the company I had $rst worked with for the consulting $rm. "ey had a position for me, too! It wasn’t publicly advertised; it was tailored speci$cally for me. I accepted their o er a!er negotiating a four-day workweek at more money than I’d ever earned, and I got to direct how I wanted to do the job.
"is was my God job. Every day I am so grateful. I am helping people who openly appreciate my contribution. I work with wonderful people who respect me, my abilities, and my “recovery” self. I would never have been o ered this position, let alone been able to do it, had I gone back to the food. "e peaceful, calm, respectful woman of integrity that they hired bears little resemblance to the 270-pound, hostile, know-it-all I used to be.
Two and a half years of being under-employed, yet believing in God, got me out of debt with money in savings, a job I love with people I love working with, and three days each week for me or to do service for FA.
So, was I working for $10 an hour at the wastewater plant? No, I was working for God and, thank you, God, I stayed abstinent throughout the whole process!
Wendy T., California, US
Truth
Icalled my sponsor as usual. A big gi! of FA is having someone in recovery take my call and talk to me for 15 minutes in the morning. I began by recapping my partner’s aws and explaining how he irritates me. My sponsor was quiet, and when I asked why, she said she was praying. And then she said, “You complain a lot!”
Before I came into this program, I was sensitive and defensive. I still am, but not to the degree I had been, and I certainly don’t turn to food or drop friends over a perceived slight. So, when my sponsor said, “You complain a lot,” I didn’t respond by turning it back on her. I could have said, “Well, let me tell you what’s wrong with you!”
I’ve been in Program long enough to know that my sponsor’s main concern is to guide me to achieve the emotional and spiritual growth she knows I want. "at’s why I’m here. But her comment did bring me up short, and a!er I thought about it, I had to agree. I do complain a lot. Where is the gratitude? Where is my Higher Power in those complaints?
A!er we talked, I was getting ready to take a bicycle ride with my partner. I caught my reection in the mirror, and thought, I don’t want to be a person who complains all the time. I want to live in gratitude.
My partner and I le! the house and when we got to the end of the driveway, I said something about which way we were going, and he responded sourly and asked if I wanted to drive instead of him. In that moment, something divine happened. I did not take up the invitation for a $ght. We drove to the lake and pulled our bikes o the rack. As we pedaled around the lake on that beautiful day, I had a smile on my face the entire way. It was the most joyous and glorious day I can remember. I was $lled with gratitude and joy.
"at evening, a couple of my partner’s friends came for dinner. I’m an introvert and self-conscious of how I think people might perceive me, which typically makes me uncomfortable and awkward. But that evening, I felt relaxed and happy. I enjoyed their company so much, and it was a lovely time. "e next day, I could still feel some of that joy.
"at peaceful and serene feeling didn’t stay with me, but it did con$rm that I have a tremendous capacity for joy. I am so grateful for this program and its lessons. I’m grateful for a sponsor who is honest and cares about my well-being and growth—no matter how I might interpret the truth. "e tool of gratitude can change everything, and I am a work in progress.
Victoria D., New Hampshire, US
Relearning
Before I found FA, I thought I knew a lot about food and what to eat to stay healthy and slender. I was convinced that eating fat-free foods was the secret, so I ate boxes of fat-free sweets. I was determined to run every day to burn o the calories I consumed. I believed that if I stopped denying myself, I would eventually achieve a natural and organic relationship with food, would stop craving sugar and our, and would want to eat salads. I thought that if I allowed myself to eat whatever I wanted, I would stop when I was full and I would be thin and happy. I was clueless as to why this strategy le! me overweight and miserable, but I was sure I was on the right track. My FA sponsor had di erent ideas about how I could become thin and happy, and she readily shared them with me. Despite my resistance, her suggestions chipped away at my preconceived notions about how I should eat. She suggested that I abstain completely from sugar and our, told me that I had to eat fat every day (and no, my dressing could not be fat-free), and in-
ose to whom I have spoken
tell me the learning never ends, and I have experienced that here in FA.
sisted that if I weighed and measured every piece of food that went into my mouth, the cravings and extra weight would disappear. She also suggested a whole slew of behaviors to help support my abstinence, like attending committed meetings, praying, making phone calls, and doing meditation. At $rst, I resisted and argued, but eventually, I realized that my previous ideas hadn’t worked and would have to be smashed. I had to destroy what I thought I knew to build something that worked.
I recently learned that I am losing my hearing and will soon be a candidate for a cochlear implant. Some people erroneously believe that a cochlear implant is like a super-powerful hearing aid. Sadly, it is not. When the device is implanted, my residual hearing will be destroyed. I will be stone-deaf. "e cochlear implant bypasses the damage (the regular hearing channel) and sends electrical signals directly to the auditory nerve. My brain will need to relearn how to interpret those electrical signals as English words (foreign languages, people with ac-
cents, and music will be challenging).
Results from cochlear implants vary wildly. Some people report hearing sounds like crickets chirping, while others can immediately interpret the new sounds as speech. Regardless, those who receive cochlear implants undergo an intense rehabilitation process wherein they practice relearning how to hear. "e “old ways” of hearing no longer work.
It strikes me that getting abstinent and getting a cochlear implant have powerful parallels. In both cases, the “natural” ways of eating and hearing no longer work. Why they no longer work isn’t important (no one knows why I am a food addict or why I am losing my hearing). What matters is that, for the solution to work, the old way must be discarded. "e new way is not comfortable at $rst. It was scary in early abstinence to trust someone else, to wake up to take quiet time, to call total strangers, to learn to steam vegetables (I actually had to call my mom).
However, I didn’t get abstinent alone, and I won’t have to transition to a cochlear implant alone. "ere will be a whole team of doctors and therapists to help me, and a network of implant wearers to support me. "ose to whom I have spoken tell me the learning never ends, and I have experienced that here in FA. I also know that the support of family and friends, though not critical to my recovery, is tremendously helpful. I used the tools of FA and a higher power to get me through the agony and challenges of early abstinence, and I will be calling on those again to support me through this next metamorphosis in my life. Some people may be able to use their smarts and common sense to eat appropriately. Others may solve their hearing issues by having their audiologist remove a chunk of earwax. My problems require more drastic measures, but I have a solution. I am grateful, as I face this new challenge, that I learned in FA how to surrender my old ways.
It will also be scary to relearn how to hear.
Abigail H., Pennsylvania, US
KATE M., OH
Really Honest
Iwas brought up with a strong sense of honesty. I didn't take people’s things, always gave back incorrect change, and tried to $nd the owner of money if I found some. However, as my food addiction progressed, this changed. When obtaining food was my goal, honesty wasn’t in the equation. I took change o my dad’s dresser and extra lunch money from my mother’s wallet. When I was about six years old my mother confronted me about stealing coins from her change jar. I felt ashamed, but I still used the money to buy candy. When cleaning or doing laundry, I claimed any money I found, even when I knew it wasn’t mine. I frequently took my college roommate’s laundry quarters to use at the vending machine. I stole food, though I wouldn’t have called it “stealing” at the time. When babysitting, I pillaged cupboards, ate food intended
for the kids, and even ate their chewable vitamins. I regularly cooked food a!er the kids were in bed and then cleaned up the whole mess, intending not to eat anymore, but o!en repeated the process.
With friends, I always found ways to initiate cooking and baking. When they weren’t home, I raided their kitchens. "e girl who lived across the street from me had a stepfather with a sweet tooth. I went through her parents’ bedroom because I knew he had candy stashed there. Eventually, I started stealing food outright, shoving it into my purse, and walking out of the store. I was arrested for shopli!ing food when I was around 20 years old. I stopped blatant shopli!ing but moved on to more “sophisticated” ways. I called grocery stores claiming I’d le! bags of food behind when I shopped (always sugar and our products).
ANGIE R., NY
A!er getting abstinent and studying the Twelve Steps, I started to see other ways I had practiced dishonesty in my life. I cheated employers by not earning the money I was being paid, and I didn't carry my weight $nancially or otherwise in my family.
When I found a sponsor in FA, I received a food plan with boundaries around the kinds and quantities of food to eat. I was given suggestions about times and ways to eat, like putting food on plates, using silverware, not eating at 3:00 p.m., etc. Along with the food plan came a whole set of tools that I could use daily to avoid bingeing and purging.
A!er stringing together a few days of abstinence, I understood that keeping my food “clean” really meant that I was being honest about food. I wrote down my next day’s meals before going to bed and committed them to my sponsor in the morning before I ate anything. Eventually, I understood that being honest about food would show me how to be more honest in other parts of my life.
I might not see or take the right action the $rst time, but I now have a built-in “meter,” conveniently located in the pit of my belly, that lets me know when I’ve been dishonest. I also have many FA fellows who help point me toward being more honest. Most importantly, I’ve got a daily appointment with God to make sure I’m growing in my recovery in the ways I should.
Angie R., New York, US
You’re sure to swoon over the art for June!
Don’t unravel, stay abstinent when you travel! eForum on June 27
Take a chance, try this FA dance
Showing Up
Iwas four years into FA when my mother had double knee replacement surgery. I took a redeye flight across the country in winter to help her and care for my father who had advanced Alzheimer’s. It was one of the most challenging times I’ve had in FA, and one of the most rewarding. To this day, I marvel that I continued to work my tools and stay abstinent.
Traveling is always challenging, but the emotional demands, short timeframe, and cold weather made it worse. Upon landing, I went straight to my mom who had just gotten out of rehab and was staying at a friend’s house, because it would have been too hard on her and my dad to be at home. When I arrived, she held me and cried.
MARGIE B., CA
I’d never seen my tough mother like this. It was hard to see her in such pain. She was so grateful that I’d come. I spent the day helping her start physical therapy, singing familiar family songs to keep her going, making cheerful conversation, and just being with her. In FA, I’ve learned to let my love show by just showing up. After dinner, I left to help my dad settle in for the night and, in the morning, get ready to go to his adult daycare. I’d prepared my meals for much of the trip, so my food was all set, but I realized I would need a few items for the next day. I was exhausted emotionally and physically. It was pitch black outside and freezing. Still, I stopped at the local grocery store and got what I needed. I remember sitting in the parking lot and
marveling at the presence of God in my life.
I had left my husband and daughter at home. My husband had just been fired from his job, and my daughter was recently diagnosed with special needs. I was feeling sorrow for my mother’s pain and sadness at the loss of my dad’s abilities due to his illness, but I was grateful that I could show up for my mother since she had done so much for me over the years. I was glad I could be with my dad, have time with him to hold hands, look out the window at the squirrels, and offer some comfort in his perpetual disorientation.
I realized it was a “Don’t eat no matter what, no matter what, don’t eat” moment. Fortunately, the strength of the program, the “deposits in the bank” of the mornings of quiet time, calls with my sponsor and to fellows, the recovery I heard at meetings, the readings, and my gratitude for the life I have when I don’t eat addictively, were carrying me through.
That night, after taking care of my dad, I made sure my food was ready for the next day. I did my tools and went to bed. Without the security and consistency of the tools, the fellowship, my sponsor, and Higher Power, I couldn’t have stayed abstinent.
I think about how this would have gone if I hadn’t been in FA, when I was 5 foot, 4 inches tall and 226 pounds, on antidepressants and pre-diabetic. I was depressed, angry, and full of self-pity. I felt confused and like a victim. I would have been divorced from my husband, yelling at my kids, and full of self-pity and denial.
In FA, I’ve learned to let my love show by just showing up.
I am pretty sure I would not have made this trip at all. I don’t think I would have shown up for my parents. Then I would have missed out on the chance to connect with my family, to be useful, to love and feel loved, and be grateful, to have a sense of fulfilling God’s purpose. My life would have been so impoverished.
When I think about missing moments like this, I think of the abundance of joy and love I have today versus what my life was like before I found FA. I now weigh between 121 and 124 pounds, am off antidepressants, and my blood work is excellent. My relationships are the best they have ever been.
When life’s challenges showed up during the past five years, I didn’t eat flour and sugar. I am fundamentally happy and grateful.
Maria R., California, US
To support the FA membership, the World Service Traditions Review Committee (TRC) is providing examples of questions they received with responses that aim to offer guiding principles for each of the Twelve Traditions. This month focuses on Tradition Five.
Tradition Five: Each group has but one primary purpose—to carry its message to the food addict who still suffers.
Q: Why, at FA meeting breaks, don't we have clothing swaps, or engage in other activities like trading food from our gardens, or handing out invitations to our closest FA friends?
Looking at clothing, focusing on food, or gathering only with our close friends distracts us from our primary purpose, which is being fully present for and helping the newcomer who is still suffering. Also, handing out invitations could easily cause hurt feelings and people to feel left out.
Q: Is it in conflict with the Traditions for an FA member to use the information on an FA phone or email list to market their business services or products?
When any member agrees to place their name, email, and phone number on the phone list, or share that information with another FA member, they are doing so to
connect with other food addicts and to get help with their recovery from food addiction. Using that list for any other purpose is a break in trust and could upset and turn away many FA members.
Q: Can meeting members distribute fliers for great offers and deals like massages or other seemingly benign healthrelated products, services, or opportunities, by putting them on the literature table or handing them out at meetings?
Our primary purpose in FA meetings is to focus on recovery from food addiction by sharing our experience, strength, and hope with each other. Introducing outside offers, even those that seem health-related, distracts from this essential purpose. While these offers might be beneficial, FA meetings are specifically for recovery from food addiction. Distributing fliers or promoting outside products or services within the meeting space shifts the focus away from our primary purpose.
When FA members want to share information about these types of things, it’s best to do it outside of the meeting, through one-on-one conversations or informal gatherings. If you need guidance on what materials can be placed on the literature table, please refer to Document 2 of Meeting Guidelines, on the FA website.
Sticky Fingers
Iwas recently at a family gathering. Everyone was helping make one of our traditional family treats. "e process is quite long, and everyone takes turns doing certain things. I was so grateful that I didn’t feel guilty about not helping with the food. In the past, my place had always been right in the thick of the food preparation. I got so much pride and grati$cation from making certain food items and treats better than others.
When I came into FA, I quickly learned it didn’t serve me to give or make gi!s of food. It was hard to know what to give people when I wanted to show I cared, loved them, or was thinking about them. "e truth is, I
did a lot of it to be kind, but I also made plenty for myself. Now that I’ve stopped baking and cooking elaborate dishes, I’ve had to learn new ways to be of service and connect with people.
Towards the end of the family function, my $ve-year-old nephew asked me to tie his shoes. I was surprised because his mom was nearby and normally, he would’ve gone to her. I said, “Of course.” I looked at his mom and she said, from across the room, “We $gured you’d be the only one here without sticky $ngers!” What a wonderful feeling. I smiled and thought, I love being known as the aunt with clean hands.
Becky J., Utah, US
MEREDITH M., ME
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the di erence.