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.

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