Recovery: The Great Leveler

I get to go somewhere every day where personal politics, gender expression, race, and religious affiliation doesn’t matter.

In the midst of all the chaos I’ve been witnessing on the world stage––and experiencing the anxiety it occasionally provokes in me––I get to go somewhere every day where personal politics, gender expression, sexual orientation, race, and religious affiliation don’t matter. It’s a place where past history is just that: past. It’s a place where people aren’t valued or devalued for how much money they have, what kind of car they drive, what kind of God they believe in––or not, if they have a prison record, or who they vote for.

Why? Because that’s the stuff we leave at the door when we enter. I leave behind the things that I’d previously thought defined me and gave me value as an individual. Those aspects are irrelevant in a 12 Step meeting. What matters is my true nature. We uncover the broken parts and heal them in a safe space where our commitment is to support one another in achieving recovery. To listen, to extend our hearts, and learn compassion.

“Our primary purpose is to recover from our eating disorders and to carry this message of recovery to others with eating disorders.”  That’s what we do. Nothing else gets in the way.

Years ago, I walked into an open 12 Step meeting to get help with an addiction I had to a substance. The meeting wasn’t focused on my substance, but they welcomed me, because I wanted and needed recovery. It was before Zoom existed, so the group met in person. The meeting I chose was one of the most hardcore in my town. There were mostly men in the room––more than half of them were former felons; it was a tough group. There were a lot of prison tats in that meeting. I came to love many of these guys, after I put my fear and judgements to the side. It was an opportunity for me to see other people’s hearts without the armor and biases I carried about those who were different from me. I had a very specific list of beliefs as to who “my people” were. These men were not on my list. They were “other,” until I learned to listen and realize all the things we had in common. The need for love, acceptance, and healing. To have our basic needs met: food, clothing, shelter. To be acknowledged for the struggles, pain, and trauma we’d all endured. We were there to witness each other as we explored the myriad ways we’d sabotaged our lives and sold ourselves short.

Eventually, I left that meeting, because I wasn’t ready to surrender yet. I never worked the 12 Steps while I was there. I was still attached to my eating disordered behaviors. That was 9 years ago.

In the summer of 2023, I hit bottom. Again. I started looking for another 12 Step group that was specifically for people with eating disorders, so that I could recommit to the work of recovery. Looking at the meeting list online, all of my prejudice came flooding back. I’d forgotten the takeaway from my earlier experience. I forgot that valuable lesson. As I went through the list, I automatically rejected any meeting that originated in the southern United States. My reasoning, as a snobby New Yorker, was that I didn’t want to be in a meeting with people who might have voted for the other guy, or were bible thumpers, or racists. I couldn’t see that I was the worst offender with my aversion to difference, and my assumption that those people only live in South, when I know better. I was avoiding meetings because of fear and I wanted to be in a space where everyone agreed with me. Kind of arrogant? A little counterproductive? Playing it safe? Absolutely. I chose a meeting that became my home group, the meeting I’m most committed to. I’ve gone just about every day, for close to a year. It originated in the Zoom ether. There are people from all over the world who attend.

I’m a judgement machine. It’s an aspect of my personality that I don’t like at all. I’d rationalize by labeling myself “discerning.” I’ve come to understand that it’s a maladaptive coping mechanism, that I use to avoid being challenged and to boost my self-esteem. I’m here to say it doesn’t work. I was, to quote someone in Program, “an egomaniac with an inferiority complex.”

When I started sharing my stories in the meeting a lot of people reached out. Some sent me images of prayer cards with the words “God” and “Him” in them, some asked if they could pray for me. I responded by shutting them down. By declaring that their God was not something I believed in. My requests were respected, and those same people sent me other slogans and good thoughts that I found more palatable. The more work I did in program, though, the clearer it became that I was controlling, closed-minded, and more fearful than I’d ever imagined. I couldn’t see that my fellows’ actions were grounded in love and that they were rooting for my recovery. That’s what they cared about. My recovery.

If everyone followed the guidelines of 12 Step meetings we’d have a much healthier world.

Over the course of the past year, I’ve completed my Steps and now I’m a sponsor. The first person who asked me to be her sponsor was a woman about my age who was born and raised in Germany. That was a challenge for me, because from the time I was a little girl, I’ve been afraid of Germans. I was born 16 years after the end of World War II. I’m Jewish, and at the age of 7 or 8 years-old, I was inundated with stories of the 6 million deaths of people who were a lot like me. German accents terrified me, German last names, I even swore never to own a German car. As an adult, I understand that the prejudice was born of fear and generational trauma. I knew intellectually that the feelings were irrational and immature. I had to pause to examine my unwillingness to let go of my mistrust. To forgive. Remembering that we’re all people walking each other home¹, I gladly became her sponsor, and thanked her for her trust in me. I shared my story of Holocaust trauma with her, and we’re doing the Steps together. She is now more than just a sponsee to me. She is a trusted, beloved friend.

I’ve gotten out of my own way in the last year. I know, though I’ve never asked––because it’s none of my business––that there are plenty of people in my meeting who are probably going to vote for the other guy, hold very different beliefs about God/spirituality, and might not approve of or accept the fact that I’m a queer Jewish woman from New York with a lot of opinions, because none of that matters to any of us. We are able to see past those details to appreciate the true value we each hold. We see each other’s beauty. That is a blessing.

And that doesn’t mean that I’ve completely healed the judge in me. But when that critical voice pipes up, I turn back toward myself and get curious. What’s the trigger? What do I have to learn here? It’s not about other people. It’s about me and my recovery.

I’ll leave you with some wisdom from my therapist. A philosophy I try to live by every day:

“I’m neither beneath or above anyone. I am independent of other people’s positive or negative opinion. I’m fearless in the face of all challenges.”²

It helps me keep things real.   

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1. Quote “we’re all just walking each other home.” • Ram Dass, Walking Each Other Home

2. My therapist told me that she thought the quote was from a Sufi teaching. But I researched it, and the only source of attribution I could find gave Deepak Chopra credit. But his version pales in comparison to the one my therapist uses. His is “First, say to yourself, ‘I’m totally independent of the good or bad opinions of others.’ Second: ‘I’m beneath no one.’ Third: ‘I’m fearless in the face of any and all challenges.’” I was reticent to credit him, because there are an awful lot of incorrect attributions online. Like Nelson Mandela being given credit for Marianne Williamson’s quote from A Course in Miracles: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” It’s my understanding that she doesn’t even take credit for it, but states that she channeled it. Nevertheless, both are really powerful statements that I hold close to my heart.