SEX, SUGAR, AND SUNDAY SCHOOL: THE REAL REASON YOU FEEL OUT OF CONTROL…

By Mama Tiff

I was sitting in my great room today and glanced up at my bookshelf. I saw a book I’ve had for years—French Women Don’t Get Fat. I’m not even sure if I ever believed in the premise of it, but today it got me thinking.

Not about weight. But about moderation. About freedom.

About why so many of us can’t stop overdoing every goddamn thing.

When you grow up being told:

• Don’t eat that. Don’t wear that. Don’t touch that. Don’t want that. Don’t feel that.

• Don’t listen to that kind of music. Don’t dance like that.

• Don’t laugh too loud. Don’t want sex. Don’t be too much.

You’re not being taught discipline. You’re being trained in repression.

And repression leads to scarcity. And scarcity leads to obsession.

If you’re told not to eat sugar, all you think about is sugar.
If you’re told not to listen to certain music, you’ll obsess over it.
If you’re told desire is dangerous, you’ll either suppress it or crave it obsessively.

And when you finally get access to what was forbidden, you often don’t know how to stop.

Not because you’re broken.

But because your body doesn’t know when or if it will ever be allowed again.

Religion and Repression

Some of the most repressive systems in the world are religious ones. Systems that teach you your body is sinful, your pleasure is wrong, your desires are shameful.

And within those systems, so much harm happens—because when people are forbidden to feel, question, or want, those instincts don’t disappear. They get buried. They get distorted. They get acted out in the dark.

That’s why so much abuse has happened inside systems that were supposed to be holy.

Shame doesn’t make people good. It makes them desperate. This is how addiction starts.

You’re told something is bad.
So you suppress the urge.
But it grows inside you.
And eventually, when you give in, you overdo it. Then you feel ashamed. Then you think about it more. And it becomes obsession. And obsession becomes addiction.

This is where gluttony lives.

Where compulsive spending, overdrinking, overeating, over-sexing, overworking—all of it begins.

It starts with a core belief:

“I was told I couldn’t. So now I can’t stop.”

Personal Experience

I know this because I lived it. I grew up in poverty.

And when I finally had money, I couldn’t stop buying. Not because I was greedy, but because I was afraid I’d never have enough again.

Eventually I looked around and asked myself, “Why do I have all this shit?”
And the answer was simple: because I had never felt safe to trust I could have what I wanted.

It wasn’t until I stopped being afraid of lack—until I felt safe—that I could finally choose moderation. That I could stop overdoing. That I could rest in enoughness.

So maybe French women don’t get fat. And maybe it’s not about the food.

Maybe it’s about culture. About being raised with permission. About not having to rebel against repression every moment of your life.

Because when you’re not constantly told no, you don’t obsess over yes. When you’re not repressed, you don’t binge. When you’re not ashamed, you don’t spiral.

And when you feel safe, you can be moderate.

Moderation isn’t a virtue. It’s a result.

It’s the natural outcome of freedom. Of safety. Of no longer punishing yourself for being a full, feeling, hungry, joyful, wanting, sensual human being.

THE END

THE QUEEN’S PATH