What if the habit you’ve learned to live with is actually something you’ve been feeding?

For years, I didn’t think of my obsessive behaviors as a “monster.” They seemed small—repetitive habits I used to cope with stress, depression, or overstimulation. But over time, I began to realize that even small behaviors can grow stronger when we continually give them our attention, reassurance, and control.

Several years ago, I listened to a TED Talk by Tauscha Johnson that gave me a clearer perspective on OCD. As she shared her experience of having a daughter who battles OCD, she described the answer in a simple but powerful way: “starving the monster.”

To starve the monster means refusing to feed the thoughts, habits, and compulsions that keep controlling us. It means recognizing the patterns that don’t align with God’s Word and choosing not to give them the power they demand. Instead of responding automatically, we can surrender those patterns to God and allow Him to renew our minds.

That idea immediately connected with Romans 12:2: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

From a Christian standpoint, starving the monster is not about relying on willpower alone. It is about bringing our struggles into God’s presence, replacing destructive patterns with His truth, and trusting Him to transform us from the inside out.

Sometimes, the things we need to starve don’t look like monsters at all.

Let me share one of mine.

One of my obsessive habits may seem small, but it has had a major impact on my mental well-being.

Whenever I’m focusing intensely on a task or become overstimulated by something internally or externally, I tend to rub one particular spot on my head, often pulling at it. This habit started years ago, after I had my first son, who is now 14. While battling postpartum depression, I began developing obsessive behaviors that became ways of coping. Another habit was repeatedly picking at the side of my nose.

Fourteen years later, these habits are still finding ways to control me.

Let me share a more recent story.

One Saturday morning, I was at the barbershop with my husband and boys, getting my hair cut. I asked my barber, “Do you notice a difference in this spot compared to the rest of my hair?”

He said, “Yes. There’s hair there, but it’s not the same length as the rest of your hair.”

Immediately, I became a little anxious. I thought, Here I am about to have to cut my hair again, because, of course, I didn’t want my hair growing unevenly.

But then my barber asked me a question that shifted the entire conversation:

“How long has this been going on?”

I said, “Whew… years.”

He continued cutting my hair, and before I left, he told me that God was prompting him to say something to me.

He said, “Whatever is going on started years ago, but it’s still showing up now—in that same spot.”

Then he began talking to me about Psalm 1:1–3, reminding me that those who delight in the Lord are like “a tree planted by streams of water.”

He told me, “God doesn’t just want to heal you. He wants to make you whole.”

With tears in my eyes, I knew God had sent him.

The night before had been challenging for me, so to walk into the barbershop the next morning and receive a Word that could have only come from God truly blessed me. What started with a simple question about my hair became a revelation about something much deeper.

It made me realize that sometimes the things we’ve been feeding for years can become so familiar that we stop recognizing their influence. They can look like small habits, repetitive thoughts, compulsions, coping mechanisms, or behaviors we’ve simply learned to live with.

But just because we’ve gotten used to them doesn’t mean they aren’t still affecting us.

So I have to ask myself—and maybe you should ask yourself too:

What monster have you been feeding for years?

What habit, thought pattern, or behavior started years ago but is still showing up in your life today?

Maybe it’s time to stop feeding it.

Little by little.

Moment by moment.

Thought by thought.

Not through our own strength, but by surrendering those patterns to God, renewing our minds, and choosing not to give old habits the fuel they’ve been living off of.

So, let’s get practical.

When you notice yourself drifting back into those habits, stop. Slow down. And gently bring yourself back to center.

Whatever Scripture you have memorized that reminds you of God’s truth and grace, speak it. Quote it. Meditate on it. Let God’s Word interrupt the thought pattern before the habit has a chance to take over.

And remember, this takes practice—consistent practice.

You may not get it right every time, and that’s okay. The goal isn’t perfection. The goal is learning to recognize the pattern and choosing, moment by moment, not to feed it.

The more you practice interrupting those thoughts and behaviors, the less power they can have over you.

Ask me how I know.

I’m a living witness to it.

And perhaps that’s what God was showing me in that barbershop: some things may have started years ago, but they don’t have to keep controlling me today.

Again, think about your life. What are the monsters that may have been controlling you?

Maybe it seems like something small. Maybe it feels like something you’ve battled for years. Whatever it is, don’t be discouraged by how long it has been there or how difficult it may seem to overcome.

God sees you. He knows the places where you struggle, the habits you’ve carried, and the battles you don’t always talk about. And He is not asking you to figure it all out overnight.

Start small. Start today.

Little by little. Moment by moment. Thought by thought.

With God’s help, you can begin to starve what has been feeding on your peace and make room for what gives you life.

Healing may be a process, but you don’t have to walk through it alone. God is patient with you, gracious toward you, and faithful to finish the work He has started.

So whatever your “monster” may be, there is hope. There is grace. There is freedom on the other side of surrender.

And remember: God doesn’t just want to help you manage what has been controlling you. He wants to make you whole.