OA Lead...

As usual I’m up early and am setting out on my Sunday route to Alliance for a huge Americano and some writing. I have to give the lead tonight at OA and I’m only half way through with writing it out. I’m scared to finish it. I don’t want to touch it. I’m not sure what I’m afraid of but something has me putting on the breaks.
I sit in my favorite spot by the window, computer on, the Americano in my hand, eyes staring out at the world. I alternate between this position and being completely engrossed in typing away, telling a story to my laptop. I was expecting the floodgates to open today spilling words from my mind to my hands to the screen but not much is happening.
I really should work on my lead…soon…
Instead I pack up and head home to drop my things off and go out for a run. I change my route slightly, heading north on Milwaukee instead of south. It’s quieter than I expected which is glorious. I go for forty five minutes then turn around and head home only to grab my things again and head to the gym for a quick workout.
A couple of weeks ago I met John* at a Wednesday night OA meeting. He noticed I wrote nearly the entire time while people were speaking. I love to write down what everyone says. He also liked what I had to share and asked me to give a lead two weeks later at a Sunday night meeting about Step eight. My mind started to formulate reasons why I couldn’t make it. Giving a lead and talking for fifteen to twenty minutes sounded real scary. While part of me was backing away from this, another part was pushing me to do it, reminding me that I am capable. The word “yes” left my mouth before I could talk myself out of it.
So here I am, on Sunday, with this lead half finished. Ok seriously…I have to get this done…
I’m reading while letting this thought bounce around in my head, sipping red tea at Argo Tea downtown after working out, watching people walk by the huge windows. I’m doing more watching than reading. My OA stuff is spread out in front of me like an impatient child waiting for attention yet I continue to ignore it.
Once my tea is finished I’m packed up and heading home where I fix lunch, shower and continue my avoidance of the task at hand that still needs to be completed. Maybe I’ll just head up there and find a coffee shop…
Again, more avoidance. What the hell am I so afraid of? Doing it wrong? Being judged? Suddenly I’m thirteen again and terrified of being made fun of because what I’m saying isn’t good enough. I have to bare my soul to these people. What will they think of me?
My story and my sharing it is an act of faith and love. I have faith that in sharing, I’ll be loved anyway. I will love myself more for taking this opportunity to give service. Fear is paralyzing though as I’m quickly finding. Time is closing in around me as I step off the train and out into the blazing sunshine. I walk for a while before stumbling upon a Starbucks. I have exactly one hour to get this done. No time for excessive thinking. I order a tea and get to work.
I brought along a journal that Jeff gave me. I decide to rewrite what I’ve already come up with to get the ball rolling and to make it neater and more organized. The first page of the journal is filled with his sweetness in the form of a short note to me. I read over it again, smiling at thinking about his hands forming the words on the page.
I turn to a blank page and begin writing. I write and write and write, barely looking up. Words pour out of me splashing across the paper in the form of my messy handwriting. My desire for food is steadily increasing as the minutes tick by. My energy is haphazard and spastic. There is no way I’m giving in to food before a fucking meeting. I glance at my watch as I finish writing the last word. It’s been exactly an hour. Whew! Made it. I pack up and walk to place where the meeting is held.
“Welcome to the Sunday night meeting of Overeaters Anonymous. My name is John and I’m a compulsive overeater and the leader for this meeting tonight.”
John goes through the usual announcements that begin every meeting. Each one is slightly different depending on which day we attend. On Wednesday nights, the meeting I usually attend, we choose three topics to speak about. This meeting someone gives a “lead” talking about a particular subject or step and discussion follows.
“I’ve asked Melissa to give the lead on the eighth step tonight. She’s not from Chicago and I asked her to speak to hear a different perspective that she might have coming from somewhere else.” He nods for me to take over and I beam.
“Hi! I’m Melissa and I’m a compulsive overeater. I’m really grateful to be here tonight.” I exhale, quickly checking in with my heart rate. It’s steady. Thank God. I can do this. “I moved here from Atlanta and this is my second time at this Sunday night meeting. I attended this one shortly after moving here but my schedule doesn’t always allow for me to come as often as I’d like.”
I remember to make eye contact while speaking, only tearing my eyes from other’s to glance at what I’ve written.
“Being asked to give this lead tonight put me in a position where I was needing to check in with myself and make sure I had nothing needing to be “cleaned up” before sharing.
Before diving into that task I felt I needed to reflect on what Step 8 was, what it meant to me upon entering the program and what it means to me now.
Step 8, as we know is making a list of all persons we’ve harmed and became willing to make amends to them all. I find that “willing” is a key word in that sentence. I could make a list all day, it’s the willing part that had me putting on the breaks. For me, being willing means letting go and taking action despite any fear I might have floating around.”
Some heads were nodding. I realized at that moment that people were actually listening. I had their attention and I suddenly got nervous. I paused for a brief moment before taking in another breath, letting it out and continuing.
“Taking action meant stepping into some unknown world and the unknown is a scary place to be. The first time I had to make my list I had to remind myself that it was only a list. No action needed to be taken yet. It was still a scary process. I dunno about you but I like to believe in Melissa’s world, it’s all puppies and rainbows and no one has ever been hurt as a result of something I’ve done!”
Everyone laughs including myself simply needing to release energy.
“None of that is real though.” I continue. “I’ve harmed people and carried resentments against even more people. It’s all been festering in a dark place inside my head. It’s a place I was terrified to look into out of fear of what I might find or feel.
When it came time to visit that place after moving through Steps one through seven thinking thank God we don’t start with eight,” I joke. “I had to stop and ask myself “Why am I doing this?” I hoped that in at least getting curious about my intentions I could move forward with a little more ease.
The answer was simple. I wanted to let go, move forward and take another step in the direction of recovery and self acceptance. I wanted to release the pain and secrets I had been walking around with.
I found my willingness by reminding myself that I will not die from these uncomfortable feelings, or from apologizing. Many people before me have gotten through Step eight and now it’s my turn. I will not burst into flames for these admissions.”
More laughing ensues and I feel good.
“I was struggling as to whether or not I was going to share what my original list consisted of. The only person who has heard all of it is my former sponsor. So I’m deciding to share it with all of you tonight as a reminder that I’m a human being and am not perfect.”
I list all the unsavory stuff…including, but not limited to, the unfortunate resentments I’ve held against friends and family, a man who abused me and the hardest to accept, the resentments I held and sometimes currently hold against myself.
“Seeing it all out there on paper and relaying the details of it to my sponsor at the time all while trying to remember that I am still a loveable human being despite my flawed actions was a tremendous act of faith.” I continued feeling my skin heat up at these admissions.
“As time has moved on, my list is usually kept quite short. It’s no longer the daunting task it once was. It’s never easy though. I took an inventory after committing to this lead tonight and found that I had some residual anger left over from someone I just recently broke up with. I had to be honest, tell him everything and let go. Sure it was hard but I feel so much better that it’s not longer something I’m hanging on to. Without this program I have no idea where I’d be. Without Step eight and all the step before it and after it I’d still be bumbling around in the dark hanging on to all my fear. Without all of you giving me more love than I deserve I’d still be in the food eating my life away. So thank you,” I exhale, trying not to cry. “for being here, for listening and for letting me share.”
Applause erupts around me and I feel myself relax. I feel so happy to have taken John up on the challenge of doing this tonight. For the rest of the meeting I sit quietly, and listen to everyone else share. My little heart is so happy to hear that my struggles and experiences match those around me. People thank me for sharing my thoughts, for the preparation and for admitting the icky stuff and share their own unsavory moments. There is lots of laughing and some tears. I feel I still have a long, long way to go when it comes to self-love and acceptance but tonight, I feel I just made an important step in the right direction.


* not his real name.