Fighting compulsion
Support group guides overeaters through recovery

Story by Jennifer Krebs
Photo illustration by Sarah Thompson

They remember when they noticed a problem, many down to the moment. Most saw it in the faces of their children or heard it in the worried words of their spouses. Still others recognized it on their own. Until then, they thought they could manage alone.

“I saw it on the old Donahue show,” Rose says. “There were silhouettes of people talking behind a screen. I figured if there was a name for what I was experiencing, there must be something I could do about it.”

Dan says as his condition worsened, people who loved him pushed him to get help.

“Life before was being obsessed with self,” Dan says. “I thought others were concerned about who and what I was.”

They come to churches, community centers and libraries to share their stories. Their participation is voluntary, free and unconditional. No one thinks less of a member for missing a meeting or two.

The men and women of Overeaters Anonymous are here because they want to be. This worldwide non-profit organization has no centralized authority, and exists on the loyalty of its members. Like Alcoholics Anonymous, a spiritually oriented system invented by a New York stockbroker and an Akron surgeon to help alcoholics through recovery — OA offers a 12-step recovery program. OA is a network of people connected by food addiction. A brochure for new members says the only membership duty is a desire to recover.

Locally, OA meets Monday nights at the Stow United Methodist Church.

Surrounded by amateur artwork and a large calendar announcing birthdays, the small group is composed mostly of women. Chairs are in a circle, which loosens when members take their place. Some read OA literature, while others prefer to sit quietly with their hands on their laps. The atmosphere is one of heavy, quiet reflection. This doesn’t seem unnatural, even as the echoes of playing children ring through the modest space. It isn’t the silence of angry standoff, but of intense absorption.

The appearance of the group isn’t what the name implies. None of the men or women is morbidly obese. Rose, for example, is comfortable in jeans and equally at ease sharing after nearly two decades with OA. Dan’s relaxed posture comes from many years working for a family welding business, cooperating with family as well as customers.

In turn, everyone has a chance to speak. The moderator passes OA literature around the circle, and each member reads a passage. On this night, the spotlight changes position several times as each member shares and comments after their passage is read. The members have known each other for varying lengths of time and to varying degrees. It is an emotional nudist colony — no one is embarrassed because no one is holding back.

Twinges of reserve, however, manifest themselves physically in the group. In deference to a leftover habit, some members cross their arms over their chests.

As the book makes its rounds, members introduce themselves. When it reaches Leeann, she states her first name and adds that she is a compulsive overeater. Her expression shows no shame. OA teaches that acceptance is the first step toward recovery, and the other members will introduce themselves the same way.

“Hello, Leeann,” the group replies. After she reads, she removes her glasses and speaks collectedly. The group listens with the patience of an elementary school teacher. Like the best teachers, the members learn as well as teach. When Leeann says she ate to bury pain, she is not alone. Because she ignored the problem for so long, she has difficulty recognizing her weaker emotions.

“My life isn’t perfect,” she says. “But at least I can say I know when I am angry now. That is a big step for me. I knew when I was crying I was sad, but I felt so many things I couldn’t identify.”

Rose nods her head and smiles, indicating she understands.

“I know exactly what you mean,” she says. “I knew something was off, too, but I could never put my finger on it. It was so frustrating to try to explain it to someone not knowing what was wrong myself.”

These small gatherings seem to be breeding grounds for realization. They aren’t on a crusade to shed pounds, only to know themselves and improve their relationships. It isn’t about losing weight, although many members do. OA says that compulsive overeating is a psychological problem with physical consequences, and it can’t be fought with willpower alone.

According to OA literature, the first three members of OA met in 1960. Roxanne, the founder, had the idea after she accompanied a friend to a Gamblers Anonymous meeting. The first OA meetings were held in her Los Angeles living room.

After the group had attracted enough members, it gained attention from the media. Between 1960 and 1965, OA appeared on television and in letters to “Dear Abby,” which established its popularity worldwide. Today, there are about 9,000 groups in 50 countries.