Recovery Brings Me Closer to Peace and Self-Acceptance

My earliest memories revolve around my mother overfeeding me and buying sweets on the way to school. I was bullied for being overweight, and my mother took pride in my size, associating it with health and prosperity. My family’s relationship with food was deeply rooted in past hardships, leading to overeating as a symbol of abundance. Summers spent in my parents’ village reinforced this, as relatives also struggled with obesity and mental health issues. My grandfather even sought help from a nutrition guru, but the focus remained on food as a source of comfort.

As I grew older, my weight became a source of pain. I was mocked, excluded, and developed a deep self-loathing. I turned to cycling as an escape, but my relationship with food remained toxic. My mother hid food, turning it into a forbidden desire. In my 20s, I spiralled into binge eating, especially after a heartbreak. I tried extreme diets, losing 40 kg, but this led to an unhealthy obsession with thinness and near-anorexia.

I joined Overeaters Anonymous (OA) in my late 20s, seeking help for my compulsive eating. OA taught me to confront my emotions rather than bury them in food. I experienced periods of abstinence, but relapses were frequent, often triggered by stress, family visits, or social events. Each relapse taught me more about my triggers and the importance of maintaining a structured eating plan.

Over time, I learned to set boundaries, especially with my family, and to prioritize my recovery. I moved away from toxic environments, found support in OA, and gradually regained control over my eating. Despite setbacks, I’ve come to accept that my relationship with food is a lifelong struggle, but with OA’s support, I can manage it. Recovery is not linear, but each step forward brings me closer to peace and self-acceptance. –Spain