As the oldest child in my family, I learned to take on the responsibility of caring for others, setting my own needs aside. My father often rewarded me with fast food. In college, isolated from family, I walked a mile every night to restaurants seeking comfort. Even as I climbed the corporate ladder, I felt inadequate and continued using food to manage my anxiety. After my father's death, I put my mother first. For over a decade, I cared for her while frequenting every drive-thru near her assisted living facility.

I came into Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) in 2019 at 193 pounds, 5'7", convinced I would be the one person the program wouldn’t work for. I didn’t even believe I was a food addict, just someone with a snacking problem. But my life told a different story. I grew up in Venezuela, waiting for my mother to leave the house so I could steal food from the cabinet and then throw the wrappers over the wall into the neighbor’s yard. I loved visiting my aunt, who had a central vacuum system, so I could eat sweets and then quickly discard the wrappers into the inlet valve hole in the wall.

For most of my life, I never thought I had a food addiction. I believed my struggles with weight were simply the result of genetics and environment, a lottery I had lost. I came from a family where many people were larger, food was central to everything we did, and at 5’9”, I assumed my size was inevitable. For most of my adult life, I weighed over 300 pounds. Even as my health declined, my denial only deepened. 

That denial shattered in 2008. What I thought were slightly swollen ankles landed me in the hospital with heart failure. My heart rate climbed past 225 beats per minute. At 47 years old, paramedics chemically stopped my heart – twice – trying to reset it. In the back of that ambulance, I was terrified. At the hospital, I weighed in at 373 pounds.

Still, I didn’t understand food addiction. I lost some weight by watching my sodium, but the obsession never left. In 2010, after being given a birthday cake and later eating the entire thing alone in a closet, I asked the universe for help, specifically for someone I could talk to about my food. Soon after, I was led to Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA). When I made the call, I finally heard that sugar and flour are addictive substances. At once, everything clicked – the mental obsession was paired with a physical craving.

I joined FA on April 28, 2010, weighing 302 pounds, and I have lost over 150 pounds. With my doctor’s guidance, I’ve come off 18 different medications. I no longer need a cane, which I once relied on at age 49. I no longer have sleep apnea or high blood pressure. I restored my relationships and financial standing, and I’ve gained a life beyond anything I imagined. Today, I live with freedom, purpose, and gratitude, one day at a time.

Once I started eating, I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t a grazer – I was a binge eater. I ate in secret, whole packages at a time, with the door closed. When I came to Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) at 20 years old, I was obese, deeply unhappy, and running out of hope. Today, at 58 years old and 85 pounds lighter, I have a blessed life in recovery.

In my Italian American family, everything revolved around food. I ate when I was happy, sad, lonely, or scared – and most of the time I was all four. My mom didn't want me to have the struggles with weight that she always had, so whenever she joined a commercial weight loss program (and she joined them all), she would drag me with her. She meant well, but every new plan just made me feel more broken. She would pack me embarrassing diet lunches to bring to school that were quite different from what the other children were eating. 

On the outside, I smiled and kept dieting; on the inside, I binged in secret and drowned in shame. When I did lose weight, I'd immediately gain it back. I was 250 pounds when I graduated from high school. By the time I was thirty-one, I weighed 325, had diabetes, and hated myself. Fasting and starvation, alcohol, cocaine, pills, more diet programs – I tried it all to control my eating, but control was never the answer. On a sweltering August evening, I walked into my first Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) meeting drenched in sweat, having tried to hide my body under a heavy raincoat. I was terrified – and desperate. That night, I heard the word “hope.” Recovery didn’t just change my body, it transformed my life. 

Then, after twelve years of abstinence, I got cocky. My addiction sneaked back in – and for the next two years, I returned to food, alcohol, and drugs. I was so ashamed and too proud to be honest with myself. Eventually, I returned to FA and got abstinent again. I found a new purpose, got married, retired from my job, and began volunteering with drug addicts. Today, at 66 years old, my weight has remained steady for several decades at about 130 pounds. I’m healthy, free, and grateful beyond measure.

I’m an 80-year-old food addict, grateful to have been part of the Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) fellowship for decades. I have lost more than 55 pounds, but far more importantly, I have gained a way of living that continues to sustain me. My childhood was shaped by alcoholism, abuse, and silence, followed by years of binge eating, denial, relapse, and shame.

I was born a sugar addict, sneaking food as a child and using it to cope with my feelings. Moving constantly – twelve cities in eight years – made food my only reliable companion. In college, far from home, I'd cycle through dieting and binging, filled with shame but unable to stop. 

After many years of failed attempts at recovery, the binges escalated. They grew bigger, lasted longer, and became more dangerous. One night, I totaled my car while rummaging through a snack bag and rear-ended the car in front of me. As I waited for the police to arrive, all I could think about was my shrinking window of time to secretly binge before my husband came home.

Sixteen years ago, I joined Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA); twelve years ago, I finally surrendered. With a strong sponsor who told me the truth with love, I followed direction for the first time. That decision changed everything.

Today, the mind that was once noisy and negative is quiet and grateful. I go through each day without food cravings, I've stopped nitpicking, and my marriage has improved dramatically. My greatest gift is waking up each morning with the promise of another day of recovery.

At 65 years old and 210 pounds, I saw a photo on social media and didn’t recognize myself. That moment of disbelief led me to Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA), where I discovered I wasn’t just overweight – I was a food addict. As an African American woman, I grew up hearing that I’d have to work twice as hard to succeed, and the pressure turned into perfectionism. For years, I ate to cope, buying sweets late at night and eating in the car so no one would see. I knew every bakery on my route to work, each pink box “for everyone else.” After a stressful day, I’d close the curtains, turn on the TV, and eat. When I read the AA Big Book and swapped the word alcohol for food, I finally saw the truth. I’d heard about FA more than ten years earlier, but only when I was ready did I find what I needed: a sponsor, a scale, and a way to live without food running my life. I'm learning to live with grace, even through the biggest challenges. When my husband faced his fourth cancer diagnosis, I wanted to eat -- but instead, I dropped to my knees and asked for help. My fellows and my family brought meals, comfort, and strength when I needed it most. Today, at 76 – one day at a time – I am free from the addiction that once ruled my life.

#africanamerican #foodaddiction #fromperfectionismtopeace #iamafoodaddict

I grew up surrounded by addiction, though my parents had found recovery early in my life. I was a relatively skinny child. Diagnosed with ADHD at five years old, I was on medication that suppressed my appetite. In 5th grade, my parents and teachers decided to try taking me off meds for a year, and I went from a size 8 slim to a 16 husky, gaining 60 pounds. When I went back on the medication to improve my ability to focus, it never again suppressed my appetite. By 19, I weighed 240 pounds. I was lonely, broke, and down to one pair of pants with the thighs rubbed out. It was less embarrassing to ask my mom to take me to a meeting than to buy me the next size up. At my first Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA) meeting, I got a sponsor and began working the program. I’d had such a small view of what my future could be, but FA unleashed my ability to dream wildly and achieve those dreams. In the sixteen years since, my life has been transformed beyond what I could have imagined. I'm married, raising two kids, and living with peace and freedom instead of obsession and compulsion. FA saved my life. 

When I found Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA), my weight wasn’t my real problem – it was the complete madness I experienced around food. Food had controlled my life since childhood. I grew up in my great-grandmother’s house, and the kitchen was my sanctuary. I was a fearful child; the sound of the doorbell sent me running to hide under her skirt, but food meant love and safety.

I started using food to make myself feel better in high school when I was being bullied. Even after things got better, the feelings of insecurity didn’t. Food became my way to cope, and college only made it worse. I would seek refuge in a damp basement study space where I could eat alone. When my sister passed away at too young an age, weight began to show up on my body. Work in Washington, D.C. was challenging too; eating huge portions, hiding to eat, lying to cover it up – it was exhausting. I always made excuses to leave social events early. When someone at church asked what I put before God, I immediately knew my answer: food. At my lowest point, after consuming a bucket-sized family meal, I passed out in my car at a toll booth and was taken by ambulance to the hospital.

Through multiple sponsors and countless relapses, I eventually found true recovery. Today, FA serves as my guardrail, preventing me from driving off the cliff of food addiction. My relationships have improved, and I’m no longer hiding. I have so much gratitude for this program. It is my blueprint for living.