When I was a child, the adults in my life let me down so many times that I stopped trusting them. All of them. I always believed in God, in a power that guides us and wants what's best for us, but each time another imperfect human betrayed me or hurt me, I was sure it was because I must have done something to cause God to turn his back on me. It seemed that no matter what I did, I could not win God's favor.
 
By the time I found program, I was suicidal. I had spent so many years using my eating disorder to keep my feelings at bay, while working endlessly to prove my worth and earn my place in the world. I was exhausted. I could not keep doing what I was doing, but I did not know any other way to live; I was out of ideas. The darkness began to envelop me. I could see only one way to stop the pain. Then something miraculous happened—a small voice inside told me not to give up, and I somehow found the courage to reach out for help.
 
I was in the hospital for only ten days, but those ten days saved my life. It was there that I learned about the Twelve Steps and about Overeaters Anonymous. I attended my first meeting. Something began to shift. A door that had been slammed shut began to open. I began to see that my Higher Power had been with me through everything, putting people in my life when I needed them. I had been too hurt and too afraid to accept the help that was offered.
 
I wish I could tell you that I got a sponsor right away and worked the steps. That is not my story. After I left the hospital, a year and a half passed before I found myself in my second OA meeting, and then it took me two years to ask someone to be my sponsor. She had what I wanted and I was ready to go to any lengths to get what she had. She was calm and serene. Even when life was throwing lemons at her, she trusted her Higher Power completely. When things didn't go "her way," she didn't run from her feelings. She felt them, felt compassion for herself. She got quiet, asked for guidance, and did the footwork. She looked for her part, and trusted her Higher Power to walk with her as she took the next correct action. I wanted what she had and I was willing to risk trusting someone other than myself. As we worked through the steps, my trust in her grew, as did my trust in my Higher Power.
 
OA gave me so many opportunities to trust my fellows and to let go of expectations. I practiced in these rooms, and then in all of my affairs.  Before OA, I saw people with a fearful heart; now I see people with a kind and loving heart.
 
I found a solution in the Twelve Steps and I surrendered to my Higher Power with complete abandon. I did the work and learned to trust the world again. My heart is open and I know with my entire being that my life does not need to be justified. Or earned. It is a true miracle and I am grateful every day.
 
I celebrated 25 years of freedom from bulimia this year. The road has been long and winding, yet I do not regret what I had to face, or the process, with the loving guidance of my Higher Power, because today I feel more joy and more happy days than I ever dreamed possible. All because I chose to take a chance and dare to trust again.

​If you are afraid, OA is here for you. We can help you learn to trust again. All you have to do is find the courage to ask.
 
Alice W. – Region One

When I first attended a Twelve Step program, I quickly “did” all twelve steps in about a month.  That was expected. The Fifth Step, which I chose to do with my priest, was somewhat scary, but I continued on.  When I had completed Step Nine, I felt a great sense of burdens being removed. I joined other fellowships and worked through the steps similarly.
 
Approximately ten years after I first entered “the rooms,” I joined Overeaters Anonymous. I started the same way, not taking long to go through the first nine steps, then continuing to work 10, 11 and 12.  In OA I found that it is common to take the Fourth and Fifth Steps again regarding another person or a particular situation. I have gone through the steps several times in my OA life. 

I have thought of the Sixth and Seventh Steps as the “working steps” for my character defects, but I am beginning to realize I have neglected a wonderful gift in the Fifth Step. To write out a Fifth Step around a character defect, share with Higher Power and then with a sponsor or partner in recovery is truly working the program.  After all, the spiritual Principle of Step Five is integrity.  
 
As it says in For Today on November 3rd:  “I need not be afraid to admit anything to God and to another person, under God’s guidance.”
 
To continue to grow in recovery I need to use the Fifth Step, and I am grateful to do so!
 
Lesley – Region One

Tradition Three says that the only requirement for membership in Overeaters Anonymous (OA) is the desire to stop eating compulsively. Tradition Four states that each group should be autonomous except in matters affecting other groups or OA as a whole. 

Have you noticed a recent trend toward special focus groups (groups which are specifically for members who share one trait)?  I believe that this is a wonderful thing, a finding of identity. Identity is the spiritual principle of Tradition Three.  Some of us, especially those who have been around OA for a long time, want everything to stay the same as it has always been.  But slowly, over time, we have allowed many things which we didn’t want to let into OA when the subject was first raised. I would much rather be an “elder statesman” than a “bleeding deacon” (or a “stick in the mud”).  I have been around OA for over forty years now, therefore I have a wealth of experience from which to draw perspective.  On the other hand, when I first came into OA, we did not worry about lots of things, and I like the “let them whirl” attitude of not correcting what others are doing.  I try to stay with correcting my own behaviors and attitudes rather than watching for what others are doing wrong.  It is not my job to be the OA Traditions police. 

Each OA group has the right to do things wrong.  One of my pet peeves is the practice of only reading one Tradition per week at meetings. However, that is NOT against Traditions and so I may grumble, but it is not my job as a Trustee to push my will on others. 

Tradition Four allows each meeting to have its own ways of doing things, unless it affects other groups or OA as a whole.   Both the OA and the AA “12x12” books (The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous and The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous) have interesting anecdotes about experiences with these Traditions. 

One of the stories I enjoy in Tradition Three is about how early in AA, they were very afraid of losing their meetings and their sobriety.  They wanted to keep certain people out and only allow “pure and respectable alcoholics” in.  So, the General Service Office asked that each group to send in its list of “protective” regulations.  The total list of those to be excluded was huge: beggars, tramps, asylum inmates, prisoners, queers, plain crackpots, fallen women, atheists, and more. Those early AA members suddenly realized that if all those rules had been in effect everywhere, no one could possibly have joined AA!  They came to their senses and made the only requirement for membership the desire to stop drinking.

When I came into OA, I think there were some members who would have been very happy if I had gone away--I didn’t believe in the God that those sweet little ladies believed in, plus I had taken drugs and had sex.  But I did have the desire to stop eating compulsively.

These days, people seem to be asking for more special focus groups. Based on some of the experience above, I say let them do it.  It may be that some of those members can start their recovery journey in a special focus group and stay in OA to support all other compulsive eaters toward recovery.  I stayed, even though some people rolled their eyes when I shared, but they didn’t kick me out and I kept coming back until I too found recovery.

So, love and accept them all, even if they challenge your beliefs.  Accept their right to work OA their own way. 
​
Margie G. – Region One

​“I think I’m doing pretty darn good in this OA program.  I don’t think about food very much anymore.  I go to meetings and try to be of service.  My clothes are fitting quite nicely, thank you very much.  I think I’m going to take a break from all this OA busyness.  Thank you OA, but I’ve got it from here.”
 
Oh, aren’t those words I’ve thought about saying more than once?  When can I stop doing this?  It takes so much time and effort and don’t you know that I really am starting to like myself now?  I’ve got all the information I need to set me on the right path.  Off I go….
 
Wow! For me, that type of thinking is indicative of the lies I tell myself.
 
What I know to be true is that the night I believed the lies that “I’m ok now, I’m at a normal body weight so it won’t matter and I just want it!” was the night my food addiction came waltzing right back in.  Waltzing like a gorilla, that is.  It picked me up and threw me down, and you know what they say, “When you’re dancing with a gorilla, you’re not done until the gorilla says you’re done.”
 
Yes this program takes time, but the results give me a life of peace. Peace with myself, peace with my Higher Power and peace with those around me.  It is true what they say that we never graduate from this Twelve Step program.  It is a design for living that works and as long as I’m living, I want to follow this design!
 
The Big Book of AA says:  “We are not cured of alcoholism.  What we really have is a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition.” (Alcoholics Anonymous, 4th edition, page 85)
 
Today, I know, that I know, that I know, I am an addict.  I will always need this Twelve Step program to guide me.  There is no leaving it behind because I’m tired of doing it. Well, there is, but the gorilla is waiting and I truly don’t want to dance anymore!
 
Gratefully done dancing,
 
Nadine D. – Region One

Lately it has been hard for me to get to meetings.  I love being able to go to a meeting without leaving my house, but sometimes sitting at my computer paying attention for an hour feels like more than I can do, and there often seems to be something else that needs done instead.  But, I know from past experience that not wanting to go to meetings is a “red flag” for me.

One of the advantages of having been in these rooms for years is that people notice when you aren’t showing up as often.  I’m grateful for OA friends who have called to say they’ve missed seeing me, and who have sent text messages saying "I hope to see you at the noon meeting today!"  They’ve helped me get back to where I hear the things I need to hear.

At one such meeting, we read a wonderful story titled “Power of Meetings” (Taste of Lifeline, pages 70-73).   The author shared about her first meeting, which changed her life, and said that meetings continue to be a foundation of her recovery.  This got me thinking about my own first meeting and what meetings have meant to me.  I realized that although “meetings” is technically just ONE of our Tools, they incorporate most of the other Tools as well. 

I attended my first meeting in 1993.  There was only one other person there, but this man put out the sign, led the meeting, shared his phone number, gave me a Big Book (Alcoholics Anonymous), and reviewed the meeting directory with me.  That meeting got me started in OA and introduced me to literature and phone calls.  I also got to be honest about my crazy food and unmanageable life for the first time.  In 2021, I get to give back by helping ensure there is someone there to welcome others to their first meeting—on Zoom.

As I attended more meetings, I met my first sponsor.  That’s really the best place to meet sponsors, right?  When I started sponsoring others (my Step 12 foundation), I connected with those people because we were at the same meeting. Zoom meetings are where they keep the newcomers these days, and I’m grateful to be sponsoring two new people in the past year.

In my early days of program, when the “We Care” list went around the meeting, I wrote names and phone numbers inside the covers of my OA books.  Now my cell phone is chock-full of OA numbers…members I’ve met at both face-to-face and Zoom meetings.

I own just about every OA book published, but I certainly don’t read them all on my own.  On non-meeting days, I might not get around to reading at all.  We fumbled around a bit at first on Zoom, but meetings soon hit their stride and most have chosen one of our amazing, hope-filled books as their focus. 

My first service was setting out chairs at a face-to-face meeting.  Zoom meetings also need people to give service, and it is important for me to step up.  When I say yes to service in a Zoom meeting, it’s easier for me to stay present, and it’s good for me to know I am contributing to the well-being of the meeting.

Meetings are where I learned to listen and give other people my undivided attention, three minutes at a time, without giving advice.  It is a little harder in Zoom meetings, but I’ve found that leaving my video on helps me be accountable for being attentive, and taking notes helps if I'm having trouble staying focused.  When I do these things, I am much more likely to come away thinking “Wow! What a great meeting!”

These days, there are new voices sharing their stories of hope in our meetings—our “world-wide Fellowship” has become an everyday reality.  We’re connected in a way we were not before, and what a boon this must be for meetings in small towns everywhere!

Meetings have provided structure for me—an opportunity to “show up” on an ongoing basis.  I wasn’t happy to have the bottom fall out of that structure a year ago, but I am grateful we as a Fellowship made quick use of the tools at hand to make meetings available again.

I see my OA family at OA meetings.  As a person who (still!) has a tendency to drift toward isolation, the Fellowship is very important for me.  I need to show up and claim my seat (or at least my little square!) at meetings.  I am grateful to be able to do so.

See you on Zoom!  :)
 
​
Beverly M. – Region One 

Our Eleventh Step talks about prayer and meditation. Meditation continues to be a struggle for me. In many practices, one of the first instructions is to close your eyes. Because of my childhood trauma, the idea of closing my eyes doesn’t feel safe for me right now. I feel too exposed. Too vulnerable. I used to use this truth as a weapon against myself. “You think you’re recovered? You can’t even sit with your eyes closed. What kind of an example is that?!” the vicious voice of my disease chimes in at every opportunity.
 
It’s important to note that through working the Twelve Steps with a sponsor, and some outside help, I have experienced recovery beyond my wildest dreams. For the most part, I do not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. I believe in my heart that my experiences can benefit others. I know a new freedom and happiness. I feel useful and I am confident in my abilities. I have talents to share.   So where is my freedom from fear of other people?
 
Program has taught me to accept myself unconditionally. I love and accept my body – a miracle for someone who has tried to starve herself to maintain someone else’s unattainable ideal. I love who I am as a person, another miracle for someone who did not believe she was worth the space she took up in the world. And, I have a self-preservation skill that, so far, I am unable to, and may never be able to, let go of. I have a strong connection to my Higher Power. I know with all of my being that HP is with me 24/7, showing me grace and direction. And still, my instinct, when I try to close my eyes to meditate, is to recoil as if from a hot flame. The miracle here is that I am not a lesser person because of it. I accept it, refuse to let the voice of my disease define me, and remain open to other ways to quiet my mind so I can hear HP’s will for me. Because that is what meditation is all about – strengthening our connection with a power greater than ourselves. How we get there doesn’t matter.
 
So, how do I meditate? I go for a walk. Because of my past, it took a lot of work to be able to walk by myself. I stay vigilant, and present, paying attention to everything that is happening around me. As I do, something amazing happens: my mind begins to clear and I hear and feel an amazing inner silence. An overwhelming sense of peace. I feel safe. And in that safety, a thought materializes that leads me to my next action. A plan forms and I can visualize the path ahead. Random thoughts start to connect and form a coherent picture in my head. As I embrace whatever was just revealed to me, I feel a deep sense of joy.
 
Does this happen every time I walk? Not hardly. As anyone with a meditation practice will tell you, reaching the stillness is not always possible every time you sit. But when it does happen, it is profound and I feel an unbreakable bond with my Higher Power.
 
When I am not able to walk and I am feeling restless, irritable and discontent, I have learned to doodle. I sit at my desk or dining room table with a blank piece of paper. In the middle of the paper I write a word. One that calls to me in the moment. Examples include Peace, Beauty, Loneliness or Heartbreak. I draw a circle or box around the word, and I start to create patterns. The patterns flow easily out of me and onto the paper as I concentrate on the word in the center. The goal again is to quiet the stories I am telling myself and find a calmness to replace the restlessness. I open my heart to HP’s message for me. If I can’t seem to find the flow, I surrender to the process and release each self-judgment as it appears. Like any new skill, it took some practice to let go of my expectations and be present during the doodle meditation.
 
The point is that however we choose to quiet our minds and open our heart to a power greater than ourselves, the only way we can do it wrong is to not do it at all.
 
Alice W. – Region One