I was not overindulged as a child. That has made this overindulgence project uniquely interesting because it is the first time I have researched something I didn't have. I couldn't start with a list of course we will ask about… statements. Therefore I had to start doing those in-depth interviews with adults who had been overindulged and the information blew me away! So much resentment, so much pain, and such a big secret! You are the first person who has ever really listened, they said after our very private conversations.

My first big surprise was about the secrecy and the pain. At the close of a large workshop for adult children of alcoholics I said, “By the way, I'm researching overindulgence.” How many of you were overindulged? The room got very quiet. They looked at the ceiling, the floor, their fingernails. No one. There were over 400 people in the room. No one? Were we researching a non-issue? Or did I ask the wrong question?

The next day, similar situation. I said, “By the way, I'm researching overindulgence. If any of you were overindulged as children, I would love to interview you. If you are willing, find me during the rest of the conference.” Wow! They all found me the same way. A person would hang around until no one else was waiting to speak with me. Moving next to me, the person would say, I'm one of them. Can we go someplace alone?

I had my questions, but I seldom had to ask. People poured out their stories. The first thing most of them told me was that they couldn't, didn't talk about it because people laughed, ridiculed them, made fun of them, thought they were kidding. The pain of the ridicule segued to the pain of having to cover up the skills they didn't have that other people take for granted. They talked at length about the hazards of not knowing what is enough.

From those interviews David and I created the survey that gave us the data for Study I.

After the results from Study I appeared in the revised Growing Up Again, Parenting Ourselves, Parenting Our Children (1998), the responses after workshops changed. Now people said, tell us more, and then they told their stories.

Connie was bugging me to do more research (It's the pox of our tine, Jean!), but I was busy with other things. I was, however, collecting stories.

Meanwhile, the common cultural meaning of overindulgence had shifted. Advertisers had picked up the word and were using it to sell everything from bathroom fixtures to food and gifts. We changed our label from indulgence to overindulgence, a fine change, since a bit of indulgence contributes to an abundant life, but overindulgence causes harm. In fact, that's the definition of overindulgence - so much of anything that looks good but causes harm.

Time for more research. We wanted samples from the general population, not just the therapists' offices or the authors' observations. Also, since Study I was the first, there was nothing to compare it with. “Are you sure this is credible?”  “What studies did you compare it with?”  (Researchers adore comparisons. It doesn't matter how intuitively true, or experientially true, or logical a finding is, they want comparisons!)

We identified well-done and respected studies that would verify or negate our Study I findings and yes, yes, yes!  This is too hot to keep in the research files.

Time for the book that respects the real experiences of real people who were overindulged. When the word got out that we were writing, people we didn't even know sent us stories, and asked, “How soon can I get the book?”

PS: I really like working with David and Connie. We all think so differently you could give us a medal for ever finishing this thing.

We continue to be interested in hearing stories from the field, and welcome reader responses.