OCD: Loving Through the Noise

Relationship Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder

I write this not only as a therapist, but as someone who lives inside the mind of OCD.

In my early twenties, I didn’t have language for what I was experiencing. I didn’t know the terms obsessions or compulsions. I just believed I was anxious—an overthinker who worried more than other people.

At 23, I entered my first real relationship. I remember how happy I was in the beginning—how excited I felt to finally have my first boyfriend. And then the thoughts started creeping in:

What if he isn’t the one? How do I know this person is right for me? Why don’t I feel butterflies every single time we’re together? Everyone else’s relationship looks different… so this must mean something is wrong.

Those thoughts didn’t come and go. They stayed. They grew louder. They became constant, consuming, and exhausting.

Questioning Myself

I didn’t understand what was happening, which made everything feel even more frightening. I assumed that doubt meant I was falling out of love. I believed love was supposed to feel certain—and because mine didn’t, something must be wrong. What I know now is that I wasn’t falling out of love. I was spiraling. But at the time, I didn’t have the insight to see the difference.

When that relationship ended, I told myself it wouldn’t happen again. I believed the relationship was the problem—not my mind. I was convinced that once I found the “right” person, the doubts would disappear.

They didn’t.

In the next relationship, the same patterns returned: the doubting, the comparisons, the mental checking. I was constantly scanning for clues, searching for certainty that never came. That’s when I finally learned about Relationship OCD.

For many people living with OCD, phrases like “when you know, you know” simply don’t apply. Relationships don’t feel calm and intuitive; they feel like a never-ending question you’re trying to answer correctly. ROCD doesn’t show up as a lack of care—it shows up as hyper-focus, fear of making the wrong choice, and a desperate need to be certain before it’s “too late.”

As someone who lives with it, I understand how isolating and confusing this can be. ROCD doesn’t mean you’re with the wrong person. It doesn’t mean you’re incapable of love. It means your brain is stuck in threat mode, demanding certainty in a place where certainty doesn’t exist.

Learning is a Process

I’m learning how to live not just with OCD, but with ROCD too.

I’m learning that thoughts are not truth. I’m learning that feelings are allowed to fluctuate. I’m learning how to sit with uncertainty instead of trying to eliminate it. And I’m learning how to love even when my brain is loud.

This journey isn’t easy. There are days when the doubts still show up, when my mind wants answers it can’t have. But there is also growth, compassion, and resilience. There is the realization that love doesn’t have to feel perfect to be real.

I’m choosing to share my story because ROCD thrives in silence and misunderstanding. By talking about it openly and honestly, I hope to build awareness, reduce shame, and create connection.

You’re not broken for questioning. You’re not failing at love because your mind is noisy. You’re human—and you’re not alone.

Kindly,

Joella Ochs

Associate Marriage & Family Therapist #150615

blvdcounseling.com