"In 2001, I found a poem about AA written by my grandmother. My Family was full of alcoholics, so I vowed to always watch my drink.  My father died in a fire.  He was drunk, and the cigarette he was smoking caused the deadly fire.  Alcohol is not my problem, and I hate smoking.  But I am a compulsive overeater.

Being a man kept me away from OA for many years.  I thought a man shouldn't worry about bingeing, and what real man throws up to try to control his weight?  When I hit rock bottom weighing 341 pounds, it didn't matter. I was desperate and needed help, and I discovered I'm rarely the only man in the room.

I went to my first OA meeting in 1996.  Thinking about Steps Four and Nine kept me in-and-out and uncommitted for years.  In fact, I never heard the work "Sponsor" until this last time around.  Having someone guide me through the Steps has kept me honest, open and willing to believe in the Twelve-Step process.

When it was time for me to be a sponsor, I made up a rule that I would only sponsor men.  I was afraid of the intimacy involved in the process and didn't think it was a good idea for me to sponsor women.  I no longer keep that rule, and my sponsor is a strong, recovered woman.  I sponsor anyone, but it's smart to use common sense when sponsoring.  Remember, real men recover!"                                                      -James

                                                                                                                          -Lifeline, November 2009
                                                  
Men - Do you ever feel like the "Odd Man Out" at a meeting? Did you have a difficult time finding a sponsor? How has your perception of the sexes of OA changed since you joined OA?

                                                                                                                          

"Food is not my best friend, my confidante or my lover. Food does not fix broken promises, broken hearts or broken dishwashers. It doesn't clean my house, organize my life or organize my mind. Food won't hold my hand and walk me through the dark when I'm afraid or whisper good advice in my ear when I'm about to screw up. Food does not carry a tissue in its back pocket to wipe away tears, nor does food have a shoulder to lean on when I just can't go another step. It does not fix any of my problems.

Food is not my advocate when I am treated unfairly or my spokesperson when I can't speak for myself. Food does not make right old wrongs, does not erase childhood trauma or make past abuse finally okay. It does not eliminate long-standing grudges, old mistakes or pain. Food does not make the disappointment go away or play games with me when the boredom sets in. Food does not help me deal with a job I hate, a person I hate or my own self-hate. Food does not give me things, will not make me prettier or smarter or thinner (especially not thinner).

Food will cover up the truth, food will distort reality, and food will pretend to do all the things that food really can't do.

Food, I am learning my friends, is just that. It's just food."
                                                  - Bianca W., Woodstock, Georgia USA. Lifeline Magazine November 2012