My Journey with OCD. Beyond The Labels.

Last night was my 12th therapy session, and honestly, it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself. If you’d asked me a few years ago what OCD was, I’d have said what most people say, that it’s to do with cleaning, tidying, or lining things up perfectly. The media has done a great job of convincing us that OCD makes you a neat freak. Spoiler: it doesn’t.

My OCD doesn’t care if my cushions are straight (Although I still very much enjoy it when they are). It cares about something far scarier: that something bad will happen if I don’t do certain rituals or follow certain “rules.” It’s all about control, or the illusion of control. For me, that’s looked like little superstitions, thoughts I couldn’t switch off, and feeling responsible for everything and everyone that I love. If something went wrong, in my mind, it would somehow be my fault because I didn’t do X, Y, or Z. Exhausting, and beyond ironic because as I’ve learnt OCD is all about control, but it actually makes you seek out parts of your life you simply can’t control. Honestly, it’s really cruel.

Therapy has been like holding a mirror up to parts of myself I didn’t even realise were running the show. We’ve dug into how that hyper-responsibility crept into my relationships too, feeling like I have to keep everyone happy, calm and safe or the world will fall apart. It sounds dramatic, but when you’re in it, it feels so real and so horrid.

I won’t pretend it’s all been easy. Some sessions leave me absolutely wrung out, and sometimes I wonder if I’m even making progress. But then I catch myself reacting differently to something that would have triggered me before, and I think: ok, maybe, just maybe, this is working.

You might be wondering why I’m writing about therapy on a wedding celebrant blog, so here’s the truth: life isn’t just about the perfect moments. It’s messy and complicated and full of stories (and struggles) that make us who we are. The love stories I celebrate in weddings aren’t flawless, they’re real, layered, and human. And part of being human is looking after your mind as much as your heart. And when you find the right person, they will want that too.

If sharing my experience helps even one person feel less alone or gives someone the nudge to book that first session, then this post has done its job. Therapy isn’t selfish, it’s not indulgent, it’s not lying on a chaise lounge with your arm dramatically draped over your forehead.

It’s survival.

OCD doesn’t define me, but understanding it helps me reclaim a little bit of peace every day.

Living with OCD isn’t easy, but it’s not the whole story of who I am, and it absolutely doesn’t define me. Therapy has shown me that these patterns can be understood, challenged, and changed. If you’re struggling too, know this: you’re not broken, and you’re definitely not alone. Progress might feel slow, but every small step forward counts. Healing isn’t about being perfect; it’s about finding peace, one day at a time.

And honestly, we all deserve to feel lighter, because you don’t know the weight until it’s lifted.