Dear Newcomer

Dear Newcomer:

Just three words. We get it.

Soon after I first came into OA, I was sitting in my good friend’s kitchen. Eventually the conversation moved from what each other’s kids were doing to me telling her that I had started going to OA meetings to get help with compulsive overeating. She was legitimately confused as to what my trouble really was. Why didn’t I just “not eat”?

In trying to explain it, I pointed her to a container of bakery items sitting at the end of her kitchen counter and told her that since I had entered her kitchen and noticed that container, the contents had been on my mind. That even while we were catching up about life, I was thinking about how much I would like to eat what was in that container, wondering if she would offer them, thinking perhaps that if she left the room, I could discreetly get into them or maybe I could stop somewhere after I left her house to get some of my own. In other words, they were consuming my thoughts.

She looked at me wide-eyed like I was speaking a different language. She said, “What? Those? They don’t even taste good! Why would you want them?” I responded, “Exactly. That’s what it’s like being a compulsive overeater.”

I don’t think my sweet friend ever understood what I was talking about, but Newcomer, I know that you do. When I started in OA, it was only because diets were not working anymore. I had lost 125 pounds on a super restrictive diet in seven months and put most of it back on in an even shorter time. I had prayed for God to help me lose weight. I had been in counseling. I had tried an outpatient eating disorder clinic. Nothing worked.

In desperation, I went to an OA meeting with a huge chip on my shoulder because I knew that this was just going to be another thing that failed. I didn’t want to be there. The parking lot needed resealing. The church basement had a funny smell. I didn’t want to be one of “those” people who probably just met together because they didn’t have any friends in their regular life. At that meeting, I heard things like “Welcome Home”. Well, this certainly wasn’t my home, I thought. As I listened, I started hearing things that I had never really heard before. I heard that food was cunning, baffling and powerful. I heard that rarely had they seen a person fail who had thoroughly followed their path, I was still skeptical of course. After all, diets promised the same.

But then I started listening to people’s stories. I heard what they dealt with and the lengths in which they had gone in order to binge and suddenly I was sitting up straight. Wait, what?

I heard how they gave up the struggle and turned it over to their Higher Power. I heard about recovery. REAL recovery. I was actually having a moment of hope.

Then another miracle happened. The people at the meeting looked me in the eye and said how glad they were that I was there. They gave me their phone numbers. With my permission, they hugged me. They offered to meet with me; they offered to sponsor me. This wasn’t fake. This wasn’t marketing to get me to buy a diet. I was struck by what I had heard and the love of the people; they UNDERSTOOD. As I went to a few more meetings, my realization was confirmed, that these strangers whom I would never have met otherwise completely knew what I was going through. They knew me in a way that my closest family and friends did not. I didn’t have to try to explain the unexplainable. They already knew. I was truly speechless. This recognition has put me on the path to recovering from compulsive overeating which I never thought possible. During the process, I have learned so much and also still have so much to learn. It’s not always easy, but it is so worth it.

So, my dear Newcomer friend, please join us. While your story and situation may differ somewhat from those at the meetings, know that at the core, we get it. Come and see. Expect a Miracle!

– Anonymous