Managing ROCD/SOOCD with a partner

Hey everyone, First time posting here! Wanted to share my story for some support but also to hopefully make others feel less alone. In short - my ROCD has made such a mess of my personal life. I was in a great relationship until spring of last year, at which point we separated mainly due to my ROCD. I struggled heavily with OCD about 10 years ago (harm based intrusive thoughts, sexual orientation ocd, etc). It took a lot of work but I was able to mostly overcome my struggles and truthfully, hadn’t given ocd much thought since then. I thought I was cured. And then 10 years later I am in a very fulfilling relationship with a girl I really love, but at about the year mark in my relationship things really changed. She wanted to have a conversation about next steps (moving in, marriage, kids, etc) and at that point my brain just went into panic mode and the ocd took over. From that point on, I was constantly scanning for red flags, felt very reserved when it came to any sort of statement or commitment and tended to avoid anything that would indicate I was committed to a long term future. It was not that I didn’t love it was just that my ocd was doing anything to keep me from making a big commitment. It eventually got a point where we had a big conversation about breaking up or staying together and my OCD convinced me that it was safer and that I would do less harm to her if we ended things, which was incredibly devastating to me. At the time I felt like my obsessing over small red flags were normal and that I needed to protect myself. I just had no clue it was ROCD. I spent the next 8 months missing her and kicking myself for my mistakes, and I eventually got the courage to reach out and see if she’d be willing to talk again, which she was. But the problem is, at this point I still didn’t know it was ocd. So when we talked again I was still plagued by ROCD as all the same thoughts and feelings came flooding back. We tried to talk through things but once again I was unable to make any sort of commitment to the future so it went nowhere. Once again, I am feeling very sad and angry at myself for not being able to handle ROCD. I feel like I let it control me twice and has robbed me of a lot of happiness and hurt someone I care very much about. I understand it’s probably not best to just look at ourselves with anger and guilt all the time but it’s hard not to when you feel like you just caused so much harm. Anyone feel like they can relate? Or if anyone is going through something similar I am happy to chat as ROCD can really be tricky. Thanks

I’ve been really struggling the last week and I need some help. I’ve been seeing a guy for about 2 months who checks a lot of my relationship boxes. He’s so kind and we have a lot of fun together. The first few weeks I was totally smitten but had moments of fear about being committed. We talked about it and decided to take things slowly, and then I would have days of feeling like every thing was perfect with some fearful feelings in between. Two weeks ago now my SO-OCD and ROCD started to come back a little as well as my more anxious-avoidant behaviors. I started to get more scared of the future and it was more intense. At the end of last week, he asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes. He is exactly the type of person I see myself marrying and has great values and is so secure about me. Until last week, he generally made me feel so safe and secure. Ever since saying yes, I feel so scared and anxious and my SO-OCD and ROCD is on max. I also find myself getting more annoyed and irritated about things that were minor annoyances or non-issues before. I’m having intense physical responses to both OCD themes, and the nagging thought and feeling that I need to end things with him because we aren’t right for each other. It makes me feel so sad and guilty. Sex is becoming harder because of the thoughts too, whereas at first it was perfect. I don’t know who I can talk to about this without them telling me to just break up with him. Everything is so new so I think they’d chalk it up to my intuition. But I do want to be in love and have less fear around relationships, so I don’t want to give into the fear. I think it could help me to set boundaries and have space for myself more often. I think I need some advice or insight. I know I shouldn’t ask for reassurance, but having some around how other people have felt at the beginning of a relationship would help. Why is it that the label is freaking me out so much? How do you guys set boundaries to prioritize yourself when you feel this way?

Hi everyone — just reaching out for a bit of support, perspective, and maybe some guidance. I was in a relationship with someone who had untreated ROCD, and I’m trying to process it all now that we’re apart. I’ve written my experience below, not to vent, but to better understand what happened and how to handle it with compassion (for both of us). I was in a relationship with someone who struggled deeply with OCD and ROCD, though they weren’t in treatment at the time. From the outside, things looked fine. But behind closed doors, I witnessed spirals, dissociation, identity shifts, panic, and emotional instability that few people ever saw. We both knew about the disorder. It wasn’t hidden. They even spoke about ROCD through awareness posts online. We knew what it was — we named it together — but knowing wasn’t enough to stop it. And unfortunately, the people around them didn’t fully understand OCD, ROCD, or just how powerful and persuasive this disorder can be. There was real love between us. Deep, honest, complicated love. And a connection that existed long before we ever became a couple — a connection I still believe in. But fear and doubt — the kind only OCD can generate — made everything feel unsafe. The anxiety got so loud that eventually, breaking up felt like the only option. Despite OCD or not, I’ve respected their decision and given them the space I know they needed and were entitled to. They shared a lot with me — things I won’t repeat here, because they’re theirs. But they were raw. Honest. Human. I was the one who sat through the “I don’t know” spirals. The doubts over feelings, attraction, and more. I was their rock — the one who understood. And they told me that, more than once. Now I’m sitting in the quiet. I’m seeing the avoidance play out: the nights out, the thriving energy, maybe even someone new. It’s hard — hard to witness such a visible shift in someone I was once so close to. But I’ve also seen the cracks. The internal conflict starting to show again. I know how this pattern works. I’ve lived it, too. The relief never lasts forever. Eventually, when it fades, the absence lingers longer. And when it does, OCD doesn’t stay silent for long — it latches onto the very things you tried to run from and reshapes itself. I know that if I reach out too soon — or say the wrong thing at the wrong time — I might push them even deeper into avoidance. Deeper into the version of themselves for now. So I’m careful. That’s why even this post is written with thought. Because I care. I really care. And in the meantime, I’m working on myself — even if part of me still wants to fight for something that felt real. But I also know I can’t fight alone. I’m not shutting the door — just stepping into another room for now. A room where I can grow and heal. But the door is still open. I’d appreciate any guidance or advice on how to approach this in the kindest, most thoughtful way — with as little hurt for either of us as possible. Thank you all so much and I wish all of you are keeping well. Lots of love ❤️