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I hear the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

So… here goes.

[exhales deeply]

My name is Tina Francis and I am a compulsive eater.

My Facebook relationship status should read, “In a complicated relationship with Food.”

Cheese buns-8

When I was younger, my parents rarely left my sister and I alone.

When they did, we would wait for the door to click and shoot each other knowing smiles, waiting in silence for the appropriate amount of time it would take them to go down two flights of stairs, get into the car and drive off. Then we’d scamper around our little apartment finding subtle ways to vandalize our home.

One time we poured a vial of Malibu Rum into my mother’s potted plant. Another time, we broke into her secret stash of stationary, and I managed to staple my finger while trying to refill the pins.

The most scandalizing thing we ever found was a box of condoms in a filing cabinet. Ew ew ew. Wasn’t that supposed to be in a bag, in a box, in a metal safe guarded by Venus flytraps?

My sister and I would eventually part ways and continue exploring on our own. She would snoop through my mother’s dresser. And I would stand in front of the fridge.

I would play with the temperature knobs, turning them from “medium” to “cold” as my eyes scanned the contents. A tub of margarine, strawberry jam, water bottles, fresh produce: all there for the taking. I’d eventually stick my fingers in the boxes of leftover food and fish out a piece of chicken. Then I’d move on to the kitchen cabinets, hunting for hidden chocolate, eating my way through the kitchen as I searched for it.

The fridge became this magic portal I stood in front of every time I had a moment of freedom and wanted to DO SOMETHING with it.

I just didn’t know what “it” was.

Cheese buns-1-4

I wish my fridge-gazing days were behind me. But they’re not.

Food has been my drug of choice for as long as I can remember. I savor food; but if left alone, I annihilate it. On good days, I groan over a scrumptious apple in ways that would make Pope Francis blush. But on bad days, I single-handedly consume Argentina’s annual quota of grain and sugar.

Two years ago, I realized this was a sickness I needed to deal with. I read books, attended workshops, and spent time reflecting on my hungers. I realized insatiable hunger could be a good thing if I fed “true” hungers instead of false ones.

If I found myself craving a bowl of cereal immediately after a huge dinner, I’d stop to ask myself, “What are you really hungry for, Tina? Is it connection? Rest? Intimacy? Purpose?”

“Do you need a hug? A shower? A phone call to a friend? Do you just need to go to bed?”

Sometimes it really was about food; but often it was something more.

I began to understand this when my days ended with conversations with my then-boyfriend, Kupa. I’d come home from an 8-hour work day, from a job I didn’t enjoy, via a 90-minute commute in the pouring rain. I’d walk through my front door hangry (hungry + angry) and no amount of food in the pantry could satisfy me.

When Kupa came along, I stopped internalizing these frustrations. I called him to recount the details of my day. I found I no longer needed to watch sitcoms and eat myself into a food coma.

I realized “being heard” was my deeper, truer hunger. A meaningful conversation and a single serving of dinner was all I needed to feel satisfied. Once I recognized this, I stopped numbing my fears and frustrations with high-fructose corn syrup.

I felt like Ben Affleck at the Oscars. I’d washed out the bitter aftertaste of Gigli. I’d matured. I’d self-actualized. I was “winning” at life.

[insert record scratching sound]

But then a couple of weeks I ago, I ate 6 cheese buns. (And my entire pantry.) #rockbottom

I had just returned from a three-week trip to Uganda, Burundi and Moldova with fellow writers and editors at SheLoves Magazine. I had seen, heard and felt so much. I struggled to find the words I needed to articulate what I’d experienced to my husband.

After Kupa picked me up from the airport, we lay on our couch, like lovesick sardines in a silent full-body embrace. I spoke about my trip cautiously, one bite-size memory at a time. It felt like I need to empty myself to let Kupa in, like pouring out a little coffee to make space for cream.

Cheese buns-4

The next morning, Kupa left for work. The door clicked behind him and I had a sneaking suspicion I wasn’t alone.

“Hello darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again…”

The Voice, which had beckoned me through childhood boredom, high school crushes and adult break-ups, beckoned me to stand in front of the fridge again.

I did everything I could to ignore it. I played music on my computer. I made the bed. Perfectly. I took a shower, washed my hair, did three loads of laundry. I SOMEHOW made it through to the moment Kupa walked back in the door and all was well with the world again.

I got through Tuesday.

I got through Wednesday.

But then Thursday came and…

… The Voice won.

Cheese buns-5

Kupa left. The door clicked behind him. I stood in front of the eerie, familiar chill of the fridge.

I pulled out a bag of frozen cheese buns. I set the oven temperature to 250°. I put two buns on a baking tray and waited for them to heat up. While they did, I made it through the previous night’s leftovers, an apple, and some yoghurt.

I pulled the buns out of the oven and tried to savour them. I even pulled out a knife and fork to pace myself.

Midway through the first bun, however, I got up and put two more in the oven.

I finished the first two buns. I stuck some popcorn in the microwave and pulled out a jar of peanut butter, putting a spoonful in my mouth as I waited for the popcorn and new buns to be ready.

I heard the timer ding.

The Voice said, “More.” And I gave in, ploughing through piles of food in a zombied state.

“What am I going to tell Kupa?” I asked myself. “Maybe I should finish the last two buns, drive to Safeway and replace the bag so he doesn’t know what I’ve done.”

Woah. Now I was considering lying to my husband. This couldn’t be a good sign.

I was Jim Carrey in The Mask. A green-faced, totally out of control, havoc-wreaking maniac.

Cheese buns-6

“You know the problem with going on these trips?” I blurted out at my small group, later that evening.

The other women looked up at me.

“Your life is EXACTLY how you left it!”

“I ate 6 huge cheese buns today!” I said, my voice cracking. “I thought I’d made all this progress with food. Turns out I’m still a hot mess when I’m left alone.”

I told them about feeling out of control, eating until I was sick and how I’d considered lying to Kupa about it. I explained how I felt ravenous, famished, and starved; and yet, nauseous, stuffed, and sick.

They nodded in silence. Then one girl spoke up.

“I think sleep might be my cheese buns….”

Another piped up, “I think TV is my cheese bun…”

“I think this game on my iPhone is my cheese bun…”

I smiled weakly.

Cheese buns-1-2

The next important step was telling Kupa the truth.

I recounted every sordid detail of the last couple of days. I talked about the history of my compulsive eating, how I’d been doing better but felt as though I was back at square one.

“What should we do?” he asked, his voice broken and emotional.

“I need help.” I said. “A counselor, maybe? I’m tired of going around this mountain again and again. I’m sorry. I know it might be expensive … ”

No sooner had the word “expensive” come out of my mouth and Kupa was on his knees, tears streaming down his face as he cupped my own.

“Baby… You. Are. My. World. I’d eat rice and beans every single day if it means we get you the help you need. I love you!”

It is a humbling thing to be loved in light of so much brokenness.

Cheese buns-1

In her book, “Women, Food and God” Geneen Roth says that compulsive eating is a refusal to be fully alive.

She calls it “anorexia of the soul.”

She’s right. I am afraid to be fully alive.

As a photographer, it is my job to capture fully alive moments. I witness so much goodness, beauty, grace and redemption. But sometimes I fear that my heart will be crushed if I allow myself to feel their full force.

The names, faces and stories from my trip swirl around my head like a merry-go-round playing a haunting refrain. “What now…? What now?”

I don’t have the answers, but I know the only chance I have of being fully alive is to be honest–because I am only as sick as my secrets.

Cheese buns-3

I love taking photographs of moms who are smitten with their baby girls.

I always notice their hands: steady and reassuring, always ready to support, encourage, embrace, and protect.

I love the look in their eyes. It’s a look which communicates how this child will be loved no matter what happens. She will be loved if she falls into unhealthy patterns, if she bends the truth, and when she lies to her loved ones. She will be loved when she goes out into the world, and encounters so much pain and so much hope, and doesn’t know what to do about any of it.

Heck, she’ll even be loved in moments of weakness, when she stuffs her face with packets full of cheese buns.

I sometimes forget that God looks at me this way too. God loves hopelessly flawed, ridiculously flaky, consistently inconsistent ol’ me.

Because of this love, I know I’m gonna beat that fridge someday.

Cheese buns-2


  1. So beautifully written, Tina. Your vulnerability and self-awareness give me courage to name my own unspoken hunger. Thanks for sharing this.

    • Oh Addie. Thank you for calling the places shame (also) lives: beautiful. Hugs.

  2. Tea~ love how you ‘go there’ in your writing, not holding back or shrinking from the truth. And you are brave to let us in your process, but I trust you aren’t alone. We all can name our cheese buns and join you on the journey toward wholeness, toward deep belovedness. I’m with you, sister. If you’re ever hungry (or hangry) for a loving voice, and Kupa’s not around, you can call me. xoxo

    • Hey Kels!

      Truth is…I think I come in only two modes:
      – complete silence, or
      – verbal vomit

      Also, the pressure of shipping has been an interesting exercise in learning how to love where I am on the journey.

      “the journey toward wholeness, toward deep belovedness” –> #arewethereyet

      Yes, this the dream.

  3. christina

    awww babe this was beautiful… trying to think of what my cheese buns are… hmmm… uggghhh these days i think it’s slowly beginning to be facebook!! damn that blue header and pinging updates!

    hope you find the solace ur looking for… and also look at hynotherapy as an option… i’ve had friends who’ve found this to be helpful for their food related issues

    • Hehe. I TOTALLY hear you on the blue header and pinging updates! I actually had to turn off all notifications on my phone because it was starting to make me go crazy.

      I hope to find solace too! xox

  4. Sweet Teen, your vulnerability and courage is beautiful. Thank you for sharing your struggle and your hope with us. I understand the magnetic draw of the fridge. And I understand trying to feed that emptiness and brokenness with anything we can find. It’s a poor substitute though for the love we both know is there. Here’s to conquering the fridge, to living fully alive… xx

    • Oh Fifi, my online and NOW offline friend, the fact that you are aware of my #IRL struggles makes this comment from you that much more meaningful.

      Why do we settle for counterfeit love? Argh.

      P.S. I have been thinking a lot about those morning mediations we did with Steve at Amahoro. #imissit

  5. Tina,

    I’ve archived this Deeper Story email into my “Jesus Whispers” folder. God truly used you to bring light to that same darkness you talk about that’s been loitering in my heart.

    Almost 4 years ago I walked into my first Celebrate Recovery (CR) meeting. My husband was an alcoholic and I was there to “support” him. Then I found out I was codependent. Two years later I found out I also had stifled anger from my childhood that I had never been allowed to express.

    Six months ago God showed me I had a problem with food. Food? Surely not me: the child, adolescent, teenager that starved herself? Surely not me: the one whose weight never rose above 90 lbs?

    Yes you, Ayla.

    So I transitioned from the anger group to the “Food issues” group at CR. Every Thursday I talk about my victories and struggles in the area of food, trying to be as transparent as possible, hoping that somehow the light bulb will go on and I will know the source of this weakness.

    And then you write this beautifully, raw and transparent story about your struggle and the light bulb goes off.

    I starved myself as a child to cope with sexual abuse and a lack of purpose due to not knowing Christ. I had no control over those areas but food I could control so that’s what I did.

    Then the dynamics changed; the control factor still there but instead of keeping food at arm’s length, I invited it in and let it get comfortable. And it was so easy to stay in denial for a while because “Ayla you need to eat more” and “You need to put some meat on those bones” suffocated the air I breathed pretty much all my life.

    But God didn’t want me to be in bondage anymore so He set me off on this journey of discovering my unhealthy relationship with food and is slowly teaching me to find comfort in Him, not my pallet.

    Thank you SO much for allowing God to use you to bring me a step further into my recovery concerning food by understanding the connections and giving me a start to the questions I need to ask about what void am I trying to fill before I dive into the fridge.

    Oh and would prayerfully consider attending Celebrate Recovery? They have meetings in Canada (not sure where you live but pretty sure they have meetings all around). It’s a Christ-centered 12 step recovery program where you do fellowship, then large group during which you hear a testimony or a lesson on one of the 12 steps, and then small open share groups where you’re able to share your struggle with others in the same area of recovery). And it’s free :) It’s changed my life and the lives of so many I know.

    Love you in Christ dear Sister. I commit to praying for you concerning your struggle every Thursday during worship time at CR.

    • Oh Ayla, I’m so humbled that you would share so much of your story with me. Thank you for taking the time to write it all out and helping me less crazy and alone. Abuse had an interesting part to play in my story as well. I hope to write through some of that too in the future.

      Sigh. Aren’t you glad Life. Is. Long?!! It gives us a chance to write a better story.

      I’m definitely intrigued by the sound of CR! I’ll look into it. Thank you!!! :)

  6. I battle the same damn struggle, Tina… The same. Thank you for your brave and vulnerable heart assuring me what grace and hope look like…

    • Uggghhhh. *empathy angst* Thank you for always championing me from a distance, Alece. I really-really hope we meet in person someday. #ibelieve

  7. You write so beautifully, Teen… and your heart is even more beautiful. Your vulnerability, your confession, helps me to truly look at myself to see my hunger. It’s scary to face my own needs, to realize I can’t meet them all with coffee or social media or Oreos. But your solution is the only solution, and the best one… to know we are loved. To know Jesus has given us everything we need, and will satisfy every hunger. To know He has given us able hands and feet and words to be His love to the world. You are stronger than you think, in Him. And so am I.

  8. thanks for sharing, dear tina. can totally relate and you expressed it so beautifully…$#^!!#*$*!!* i love women, food, and God, and i made a commitment to re-read it this summer. it’s july and i haven’t yet but this post made me realize i really need to. thank you. love from here to there. you’re definitely not alone.

  9. Oh. My. Goodness. So much to think about here. SO MUCH.

    Thank you for sharing this story. I needed to read it.

  10. Tina Francis, I will spend the rest of the day naming my own cheese bun.

    Or I could just name it now and call it My Computer.

    This is a WORD, friend – a vulnerable, funny, true word. And I love your husband’s answer to your honesty. This is way love works.

    Thank you for pouring yourself out here; my prayer on your behalf is that God fills you back up with Hazelnut-flavored hope and strength.

  11. Crying over here. Thank you for writing about this all too familiar thing for me. In reading this I’m realizing I probably need to take some time to do some serious unpacking of my heart and find out what it is I’m most afraid of feeling. The “anorexia of the soul” as you put it. I know this. I know it.

  12. This scares me. This is me. Thank you.

  13. Beautiful, raw, tender, honest. And I am just another small, “Me, too!” It’s a bit different with me, but still very similar with the same end result.

    Be encouraged that you do not tread this path alone.

  14. MC

    This really spoke to me. It gives me some hope.

  15. Tina dearest, I am so honored to know you and call you friend. Your courage in naming your struggle and sharing so openly about it- wow. You amaze me. I love how Kupa was Christ to you in that moment of sharing and that you accepted his love. I am proud of you for identifying that Voice as a Liar and for taking steps to figure out what to do about this. I am here for you all the way, through prayer, through Skype or phone calls, through pictures of my sleep mask to make you laugh. Whatever you need. And in the meantime, I’ll be thinking about the cheese buns in my life.

    The words of your prayer come to mind right now: this is a minor chord in your life and God will do something beautiful with it. Even now, in the way your words are speaking to others and encouraging them to get at the root of their true hunger. Love you so much.

  16. Wow… I am amazed and excited at your journey of where you have been and I believe where you will be going after this writing.
    Opening up and confessing is the start of a new beginning.
    I pray you find the new direction and someday like this writing, you will say, “I was here and I know why now.”
    God be with you as you travel this difficult journey and may he give you the strength to follow through.

  17. Many thanks for this beautiful, honest post that I’m certain every human being can relate to. Blessings sister.

  18. Becky Roper Motley

    The most beautifully written, accurate description of food addiction, anorexia of the soul, I have ever seen. Thank you for sharing your truthful awareness of how food cannot fill the hole in our hearts. May your sharing open the door for God to do more work with those of us who struggle.

  19. I’m blown away by this story. Thank you for sharing it.

  20. Thank you so much for sharing your struggle…you’ve shed light on some areas in my own life where I’m not “fully alive”, either. This has given me a lot to think about…

  21. Teen,

    You made me cry.
    I have had all kinds of cheese buns in my life, and I love love love this picture of Kupa, really presenting a beautiful picture of Christ when He says to us all: You. are. my. world.
    This is a brave thing you’ve said, friend, thank you for sharing it!

  22. Oh Tina. Thank you for this.

  23. Heidi

    Dear Tina. *Big Bear hugs* You are brave not just for sharing but for saying it out loud. As I read your post I have realised TV is my cheese bun. And maybe someday I’ll beat that TV too. x

  24. Beautiful! Welcoming God into my journey with food has been transformative.

  25. Susanelizabeth

    Beautiful. Honest. Moving. Healing.I am also a food addict, bulimic, compulsive eater(in recovery, thank you God). I entered treatment in 87 when I was suicidal from yrs of food addiction, bulimia(Diabulima), and lying to myself and others. My husband had just taken a new church, and here was his wife, entering treatment for an addiction. Humbling for sure.It saved my life and changed our ministry as healing took place. I was in RAPHA for 2 months, came home and began binging and purging again and then, had a total breakdown. Thank God I found a wonderful counselor and a 12 step program for ED’s called Overeaters Anonymous ( and my healing finally began. I look back to that time and thank God for not committing suicide, how much I would have missed with watching my 2 daughters grow up, have 3 beautiful daughters of their own. And now, to minister to others. And it all began with getting honest, getting help and surrendering to God. I now attend CR and two other 12 step programs and am grateful beyond words as I near my 26th anniversary this Nov. Keep sharing.Keep reaching out. You are a blessing and you are loved!

  26. Oh how I hear you TeenBeen. I’ve had a very similar relationship with food all my life – hence my weight fluctuations. I read and LOVED “Women Food and God” by Geneen Roth and swore after doing so that my relationship with food would be forever changed and I would never diet again. Alas, old habits die hard. I think this is a journey many of us face, be it with food, TV, iPhones, whatever. Thank you for sharing your own struggles and opening up the conversation so we can know we’re not alone. Love you! xo

  27. Your story made me tear up. I know that shame, that burning regret all too well. I am so glad that you have such a sweet, supportive husband! I also love the comparison of a loving mother with our loving Father. I find it easy to let the LIE replace that truth, so it is nice to be reminded.

  28. Ronna

    Thank you for writing this. I don’t know how many times (especially when I’m left alone late at night) that I have gone scavenging in the kitchen and eaten everything in sight until I felt sick. I would lie in bed curled up on my side promising myself that I would never eat like that again, admonishing myself for being so stupid and not having self control. I would know that I wasn’t hungry, but I would go searching for something to satiate my appetite. It’s gotten so bad that sometimes I steal food from roommates or suitemates and try to keep it a secret. I’ve had problems like this ever since middle school. I remember one day after school I was all alone and searching for a snack. I was just learning to cook stuff, so I hate seven slices of breakfast sausage. My room was right next to the kitchen too, so late at night after my parents were already asleep and I had been reading I would sneak into the kitchen and makes myself waffles and choke down grapes while I waited. In high school it would be sleeves of saltine crackers. I don’t know why I’m writing all of this in a comment of a blog written by someone I don’t even know. I’ll buy healthy foods and try and eat healthy, and I will . . . and then I’ll just snap, especially if I’m alone, it’s late at night, or I’m watching tv or a movie. It’s like I’m never satisfied, even if I’ve just eaten a big meal.

    So, thank you for writing this. Thank you for telling me I’m not alone.

  29. Laurie

    Tina, I love the way you write and your photography, the way you tie the two together is beautiful.

  30. Eve Anderson

    Just beautiful and brave and strong. Thank you.

  31. Jen Street

    Tina, you brought tears to my eyes. I have been fighting the same battle most of my life. I make all these strides and then do it again. Thank you for sharing this, it’s so inspiring and encouraging. I know one day I’ll beat this for good as I embrace more healing and allow God to fill me more and more. Bless you.

  32. Abi Nelson

    I love how Kupa exampled Jesus heart towards you so well! Posture, emotion, words and all. I know if it was necessary jesus would choose a life of temptation, humiliation, homelessness, and a splintered cross a million times over to set his children free. You are so beautiful Tina, and incredibly influential because you speak of that which we all are-insufficient hot messes being chased by god’s love and grace relentlessly-because we are his world. I needed to be reminded of this today!

  33. Elizabeth

    This really spoke to me. Thank you for your courage to share.

  34. Alli

    Thank you for this beautiful post. I wanted to encourage you in that I have been winning the battle for over 5 years now and it all started with getting honest with myself and crying out to The Lord for help. He brought me an amazing program called food addicts recovery anonymous. It was the life line I needed to win the fight and still through god’s help and provision has provided me a way to have peace most days with food. I also live in Canada and would be happy to engage more in this conversation if u are so inclined. Peace be with u

  35. Michelle Van Sickle

    Tina, Thank you for your beautiful sharing of your struggle, your feelings and your truth. I, too, have struggled with food all my life. I’m one of those strange bulimics that didn’t vomit but dieted, starved myself, binged and then purged by working out endlessly and very occasionally taking laxatives. As the daughter of an alcoholic who was also an over eater who died at 49, I was in deep despair through my childhood. God stepped in and relieved me of the compulsion to diet, and I then crawled into Al-Anon, a 12-step program for family and friends of alcoholics, when I was 24 and then into Overeaters Anonymous when I was 33. I am so blessed- I was born again in Christ 15 years ago and now I turn my food over to God everyday, actively seeking his help for my compulsive mind. I loved “Women, Food and God” and will never forget reading “Feeding the Hungry Heart” by Geneen Roth in my twenties and knowing I was not alone. I am in a daily OA email group where we all read an OA daily reader called “Voices of Recovery” and share about it every day- all 19 of us. Reading those shares gives me strength, hope and courage to face my insanity, reading my Bible every day gives me God’s word to armor myself with, and sharing who I am honestly gives me incredible relief from the Voice. Thank you, thank you for your shining honesty and your lovely pictures. God bless you.

  36. Bethany Olsen

    Thanks for this, Tina. I 100% relate to the post and love your courage in writing it! Onward we forge, together. <3

  37. Kelly josephine

    Well I see everyone is trying to figure out their own “cheese buns” and the truth is my cheese buns is actually cheese buns. Our stories are identical except that when my parents left us alone, my sister and I literally beat up on each other till one of us ended up hurt. It was a volatile lifestyle of anger, hurt, resentment, rejection and jealousy. We found out later it was because of a mental health issue that belonged to my mother a long time ago and as she raised us she actually perfectly planned for us to be enemies so that she had somebody on her side all the time. Once my sister and I graduated high school and grew up & moved out we became the best of friends. My mother once told us in counseling that she was jealous of us after we got older because we had the loving sisterly relationship that she wished she had with her older sibling.
    My mother suffered her whole life with depression and then later we found out my sister had bi-polar. I am “thank the Lord” like my dad so I used my creative outlet to paint, scrapbook, and write to get out my frustrations and learned to channel my inner love for myself….however all the while stuffing my face with the proverbial “cheese buns”. I knew I was lucky enough to escape the dreaded depression because I wore my heart on my sleeve and I am a people person so that made me more outgoing than any of my family, but deep down I always held onto the idea that was drilled into my head as a child by my mother if you aren’t perfect & act perfect nobody will ever love you. If you don’t do everything as I say, things will be ruined. You must do as I say and keep your mouth shut, I could have no opinion so I could not be heard. Even to this day I can have a conversation with my mom and seconds later she will not know a thing I said to her, I think maybe I got some of that ADD. My sister said one day do you know you cant’ talk to someone and do something else at the same time, I said you know what I am okay with that if I am focused on them I want to give them my full attention, because I guess it’s what I’ve always craved…not food…attention=love. And there is my “cheese buns”. Thank you for your article. That was a mouthful, yikes, sorry. :)

  38. this was so beautifully written, Tina. I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but I know of the suffering in Africa and I know the feeling with which you returned from your trip. If you EVER need to lay it out on someone (the things you saw and experienced), email me. I’ll listen intently. And I’ll understand.

    Sometimes, it is hard to speak to those who don’t get it. they try to, but they can’t because they haven’t been there. So, use me as a sounding board if you’d like.

    And, YES, God loves us that way. It is exciting and humbling, but He doesn’t love us any less because of our weaknesses.

    Be strong, warrior,


  39. My cheese bun is Dr. Pepper.

  40. Colleen

    Thank you so much for having the courage to share this. It really spoke to me and it’s so comforting to know that I am not alone in this exact struggle.

  41. Erin Wilson

    Not quite there yet myself, but cheering you on from a few paces behind.

  42. Allison

    “You are only as sick as your secrets.” Wow. Thank you for this. I just found this blog today and haven’t read a post yet that isn’t have a powerful effect on me. Thank you for your honesty.

  43. Thanks so much Tina for your honesty!
    Food is complicated for me, as I never used to even care about it – therefore never ate that much. But after the life changes of getting married and leaving home, moving town – I started comfort eating like nothing else. I think the reality was that I used to shop, or sleep, to escape. I was a terrible spender and buyer of just stupid things.
    But when you’re married to someone who sees what you bring home, and who knows how to manage money, and who does things like savings (gasp!), that option isn’t there. And since having kids 5 years now – sleep certainly isn’t an option. But the fridge. Ah the fridge. Yes I understand it well. I justify by saying that food is one of life’s great loves, and should be eaten with abandon and celebrated. Which is true. And that’s probably not the same as eating all the sausages in your house covered in cheese and tomato sauce because you’re “starving”.
    I don’t know where to go with it and am too tired to start, but thank you again Tina for your beautiful words and exquisite pictures. You’re such a gift! Xoxo

  44. “I single-handedly consume Argentina’s annual quota of grain and sugar.” message of the post aside, you are just a fantastic writer. thank you for sharing this! I too have some, uh, issues. sigh. but we will make it!

  45. thank you for this, sweet tina!
    i fight food addiction as well. began coming clean about it last summer. and finally, more than a year later, tasting some freedom in jesus.

    grateful for your openness and willingness to share. you’re a blessing! xo

  46. Oh my goodness. This is where I live. Exactly here. Thank you for writing this – it helped me feel not so alone.

  47. Well, crap. Here’s my story, at least pieces of it. Only I NEVER looked like you look. Thank you for being so richly honest, using your usual Tina flair to make us laugh and cry at the same time. Many, many blessings as you unpack all the reasons for this in your life. I know much rich stuff will come for your work. And believe me, it is WORK.

  48. Charlotte

    So much of this hit smack in so much of me. Thank you for this. Seriously. I’m going to keep this in a safe place for when the voice comes for me.


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