I Was Compelled to Confess

I’d like to share a little story with you about how we came to call a particular dessert in our house “confession brownies.”  It all started years ago when I would make a pan of brownies early in the day, planning on serving them for dessert that night.  Sadly, there were many times when the brownies didn’t last past lunchtime, as over the course of several hours I would have a corner here, a bite there and before I knew it, and entire row was gone.  Well, then I needed to go ahead and get rid of the rest of them, so John wouldn’t know I had eaten a whole row.  Before I knew it, they were all gone.  I would then race around like a mad woman trying to get another pan out of the oven before John came home so he wouldn’t know I had eaten an entire 9”x13” pan of brownies by myself.  Fortunately for me, he would often remark how nice it was to have the dessert warm.

I don’t make the large 9”x13” pan of brownies anymore, because I realized that leftover brownies are hard to resist.  If I make brownies these days, I make the smaller 8”x8” pan, and with a family of nine, the brownies are gone fairly quickly.  I also have learned to control my urge to eat the entire pan, which is a good thing.

The name confession brownies came about by accident.  I was making brownies one time late in the day.  This time, I even added chocolate frosting, since the brownies weren’t enough by themselves.  The pan looked beautiful, with the smooth, shiny chocolate frosting glistening as it dried.  Although I tried to resist, I began my usual picking at the corners.  Without even realizing it, I had eaten about half of the row.  On this day I had a problem, because I didn’t have enough time to make an additional pan.  The beautiful smooth, shiny frosting was now a globby mess, as I unsuccessfully tried to resmooth it into the gap where brownies used to be.  The more I moved it around the worse it got.  Slam!  The door opened and closed and John was home.  Yikes. 

He said, “Is that brownies I smell?”  I nodded, and he was excited, as were the children.  We sat down to eat dinner.  The whole time I was sitting there I was wondering how I could avoid confessing what I had done.  When everyone had eaten their dinner, I got up to cut the brownies.  As I stood at the kitchen counter looking at the globby frosting I realized you can’t cover up mistakes.  So I bravely walked back over to the table and plopped the whole pan down.  I told the family, “I have a confession to make.”  I explained what I had done, and how I tried to cover up my mistake by moving the frosting around, but it hadn’t worked.  We all had a good laugh about it, and began to call brownies with frosting “confession brownies. “

Now, if I make “confession” brownies, anyone who wants to, can confess something without any repercussions.  The kids are usually funny, and tell funny stories on themselves and each other.  It’s become a fun, family time and we all end up laughing and talking at once.

The lesson I learned from confession brownies is this.  You may think, as I did, that no one sees what you are doing.  And they might not.  But you see what mistakes you make with your food choices, and the repercussions are both external and internal.  External as your weight slowly creeps up, and internal, as you feel guilt for making bad choices.  I would encourage you to not beat yourself up over poor choices, but rather use those choices as a learning tool to do better next time.  

Are you able to look at mistakes as learning experiences? Diane

34 thoughts on “I Was Compelled to Confess

  1. Miz says:

    Oh Diane I adore this story and family tradition.

    the safe zone youve created for all in your family to share embrace and move BEYOND mistakes and simply view them as growth experiences.


  2. Little Bee says:

    Oh, I love this story and how your standing by your actions created a wonderful family tradition. I myself am just learning to speak openly and honestly about mistakes and why I did what I did. So no good learning stories from me yet, I am just starting to create them. 😉

    Thank you for sharing this story today.

  3. vickie says:

    loved the story too.

    hiding our over eating seems to be a universal trait of the ‘old ways’ and stopping that behavior seems to be a universal trait of weight loss/maintenance.

    I think we have all driven to anonymous garbage cans to pitch wrappers. And eaten in our car or garage or basement or pantry so no one would see us.

    I know someone who used to keep a spoon in the basement and go down and hide and eat ice cream out of the carton, hiding in the corner of the basement.

  4. MB says:

    I have a confession to make … I could eat an entire pan of brownies, cake or whatever one little square at a time.

    I’ve made so many mistakes I can use as learning experiences. The number one is how I would lie to myself about how hard I was working at trying to lose weight. It doesn’t matter if there isn’t anyone around to see me eat, the calories still count and I have to be honest with MYSELF to contineu making progress.

    Enjoy the weekend!

  5. Sharon says:

    My “confession” food was a pan of Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls. Got caught because even though I’d made and eaten them early in the day, the smell still lingered. Unfortunately, the lesson didn’t sink in at the time and I changed to a box of Krispy Kreme Cruellers! Thankfully, those days are behind me, but not forgotten. Haven’t had even a smell of either for years! What I learned is that the look of disappointment from my husband broke my heart. It would have been better if he’d yelled, screamed or said hurtful things. But the look of sheer disappointment was enough and I vowed I’d never do anything like that again.

  6. CK says:

    Love this story, too!

    Depending on the lesson, I have to put myself through a sufficient period of self-flagellation before I allow myself to learn from my mistakes. Just raised that way, I guess. It’s really the shame that keeps us stuck. Once you let go of that, you can move forward a little wiser.

    Wisdom comes from experience. Experience comes from making mistakes.

  7. Tracey @ I'm Not Superhuman says:

    I love that you turned the experience into a funny story you all laugh about now. But if I were you in that case I would have cut the brownies out of a pan and arranged them on a dish so no one knew there were a few missing. 🙂

  8. Roxie says:

    Wonderful story, Diane. But boy, can I relate to the whole cover up side of it. I can’t recall the number of times I’d have to re-bake, re-buy or try to explain how something we’d recently had so much of had now diminished. I am grateful that for today, those acts are in my past.

  9. Karen says:

    I was doing this a lot, as I made many missteps. But when I make the same mistake over and over, it is hard to consider it a learning experience since I clearly am not learning from it!

  10. Desert Agave says:

    What a great story and family tradition. I love the idea of confession brownies.

    As for me, I think learning from my mistakes is something I’m still working on. But I’m working on it pretty hard!

  11. Jane says:

    I love this story–you took a weakness for sneaking brownies and turned it into a tool of confession and honesty for the whole family. I haven’t been able to bake for years, unless it is just for company, and I know it will be gone in an instant. To acknowledge such as weakness is to use your strength to forge ahead.

  12. emergefit says:

    There is a learning experience in every moment. But you won’t see them if you’re not looking.

    It’s been said that character is what you do when no one is looking. This applies to eating as well.

    A great story Diane, and one of your better posts in my opinion. A great message here!

  13. Liz says:

    Love your post and making it a family learning point! My husband adores rice Krispie Treats and when my kids were toddlers, we used to solve math problems based on how many there were at night and how many were left in the morning = how many Dad ate.

    How brave of you to confess to your family, I try to limit my confessions.

  14. Amy says:

    I love this story! Thanks for sharing it and I am so glad for you that you managed to turn it around into something positive, for both you and your family. It was a really good example for your kids about being honest and taking the consequences of actions too!

  15. Sagan says:

    I love this. All of it. You are so refreshing, Diane.

    “Now, if I make “confession” brownies, anyone who wants to, can confess something without any repercussions. The kids are usually funny, and tell funny stories on themselves and each other. It’s become a fun, family time and we all end up laughing and talking at once.”

    So sweet how it turned into something positive.

    And full disclosure: I once made a batch of rice krispy squares and ate so many of them that I made another 1/2 batch to add to the pan so no one would know. It was as I was making the 1/2 batch that I realized there was something seriously wrong with what I was doing – I didn’t confess to having done THAT, but I did confess to my binging in general, and it really helped to have someone KNOW about it and be able to help me.

  16. Lisa says:

    I love that you put a positive spin on it. What a great idea. And I have a confession too: when I was 250 I would bake a lot and the treats rarely lasted a day. I often ate them all by myself.

  17. mamajuliana says:

    A great story. I am still rather good at beating myself up for mistakes. I also try to hide me eating at times.

    Silly me, I know everyone else in the house can tell that the potato chip bag is gone when it was half full when they saw it last!!!!

    Becoming more honest about my eating has been a big step. It is just not dieting with me…it is why I overeat. My family was too nice to me for too many years when it came to my weight and my overeating.

    We all have had to relearn healthy habits and eating.

  18. Joe says:

    Holy cow that’s funny. My kids are to young to do anything without me knowing – like the four year old stuffing cashews into the mouth of the 10 month old last night.

  19. Kate says:

    You must write well, because I now have a wicked craving for brownies 😉 Cute story, and lovely example for the kiddos to follow (confession/forgiveness).

  20. 'Drea says:

    Um, I don’t make mistakes — just kidding.

    I like the concept of confession brownies and I have to admit that I am much better at owning up to my mistakes these days…

    I love my new fit life. 🙂

  21. Diane says:

    I love this story. I used to hide snacks in my car so i could indulge without anyone knowing. Not anymore, though.

    It is silly really, as if no one can figure out that you are overeating by the fact that yo are able to maintain your larger size. Does it really matter what, where and when?

    I realized, why hide in embarrassment when the evidence is clearly on my hips!


  22. Fran says:

    I love this story and you were very brave to confess to your husband and children.

    I look at mistakes as learning experiences which doesn’t mean I don’t make the mistake again but eventually I won’t make it, it takes some time to get over bad habits.

  23. Siobhan says:

    What a great post and I love the idea of confession brownies. I have an awful time dealing with my mistakes; not so much with owning up to them but with beating myself up about them afterward. I’m much more forgiving of other persons than I am of myself.

  24. Tami says:

    What an awesome life lesson. I once heard this What you eat in private you wear in public. That really stuck with me.

    I might not always be able to see the mistake as a learning experience at the time but perhaps in reflection later.

  25. blackhuff says:

    I agree. Don’t make things or have things in one’s home which is hard to resist.
    I like the idea of confession brownies where everyone can confess about things. Makes the soul ligther 🙂

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  27. KCalla says:

    Thanks Diane… looking over at the empty bowl that was filled with a “brownie”, a WW fudgescicle on top (stick removed) and 1/2 Oz walnuts. It wasn’t a confession brownie! I chose to have it! Life has changed so much!

    You write well, love your family well, and continue to encourage me day in and day out!

  28. Hope says:

    That’s a great story! It honestly sounds like something I would have done-at least eat the brownies and try to hide it part. I love how you turned it into a family tradition. 🙂

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