Recovery isn’t a straight line, and it’s definitely not always pretty. For me, it’s been a winding path filled with trial, error, and a surprising amount of humor—like the question, should I say “OMHP” (Oh My Higher Power) now instead of “OMG.” Jokes help me stay light when the weight of addiction and healing feels heavy. Because the truth is, compulsive eating ruled my life for years. I tried everything I could think of to fix it—diets, discipline, shame, even other people’s good intentions. None of it worked. What finally did was something I never expected: surrendering to a Higher Power and walking the 12 Steps. This is the story of how I got there.
I’ve heard several speakers describe addiction—and the 12 Step solution—as a physical illness that requires a spiritual remedy. It also helps me make sense of how early my struggle began. Long before I had words for addiction or recovery, I was already caught in a cycle I couldn’t control. Childhood laid the groundwork, and food became both my comfort and my trap.
Childhood and the Roots of Addiction
I was a “latchkey kid” in the 1980s. If you’re unfamiliar with the term, it means I had a key to our home and was responsible for locking up and letting myself in. My parents left for work around 7 AM and didn’t return until 5 PM.
By second grade, at just seven years old, I was getting myself ready for school, arriving on time, walking home for lunch, returning to school, and then coming home to an empty house.
My mom described me as a generally good kid. But with all that unsupervised time—and an addiction to feed—I began stealing small change from my parents around age 8 or 9. When they caught me and shut down that avenue, I started stealing directly from stores.
Escalation and Intervention
My mom and stepfather saw how things could spiral. My stepfather began following me during lunch hours to make sure I was going straight to and from school. But I was still stopping at the store, and pulling out junk food just a block away was a dead giveaway. I was caught again.
Eventually, we moved to a different neighborhood, and a family friend supervised me during lunch and after school. Still, I found ways to steal money or junk food—though less frequently.
Adolescence and Shame
As I got older and heavier, I tried to cut back. By then, I had my own money from babysitting and paper routes, so I didn’t need to steal. I had good intentions not to gain weight, but the urge to buy my favorite foods was stronger. I kept eating.
By age 13 or 14, I was overweight. I began shaming myself—and strangers joined in. Their comments didn’t motivate me to stop; they became subconscious reasons to keep abusing food.
Failed Solutions
My best ideas? Homemade diets, pay-and-weigh programs, and self-shaming. None of it worked.
My parents tried everything:
- Following me
- Moving
- Encouraging better habits
- Resorting to fear and shame
Their power didn’t work.
Pay-and-weigh programs gave me food plans and group support. Didn’t work.
Strangers gave me dirty looks and unsolicited advice. Didn’t work.
My experience showed me that human power—mine or anyone else’s—wasn’t enough.
Finding Recovery
Then I found Overeaters Anonymous. OA said: try a Higher Power and work through the Steps.
In my first year in OA, I released 100 pounds. That was in 1998. It’s now 2022, and I haven’t gained that weight back.
It hasn’t always been easy. Life has been uncomfortable—sometimes downright awful. But I continue to believe in a power greater than myself and apply the Steps to my life as best I can.
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