There it was, on the table in my No-Man’s Land – the office break room - teasing me and inviting me. Left over from a new-hire meeting in the office conference room, the iFratelli cheese tortellini turned out just too tempting to ignore.
I glanced furtively over my shoulder to make sure no one could see me. Then, despite my Lenten promise (and the fact that I was not a top-three finalist in the office weight loss challenge, which ended today), I helped myself to a small bowl.
I scurried back to my desk with my bowl, and quickly consumed its contents.
The tortellini, like most of the iFratelli food I’ve tried, wasn’t even good. But I ate it anyway.
I’ve read similar stories in Overeaters Anonymous literature: you’re not hungry, the food isn’t even good, etc., but you eat it anyway. This lack of willpower is something OA calls a “character defect”; step one in OA’s 12 steps even calls for members to admit they’re powerless over food, which I discuss here.
After I attended that OA meeting last month and read up on the organization’s literature, I was on the fence about the group’s tenets and 12 steps, which were simply adopted from Alcoholics Anonymous. But now I’m not so sure OA has the wrong approach. Apparently I am powerless over food, or at least I should admit that I don’t exercise very good judgment when food is around. So today, I made two entries in my calendar for tomorrow: an 8:15 a.m. weight management appointment with my doctor, and a 7:30 p.m. OA meeting. After all, I’ve found many of the stories in the Overeaters Anonymous book very compelling and relatable, if only slightly, and even gotten emotional over a few of them.
Amidst my failures, my hiccups, my growth and my missteps, what’s my story?