Is my relationship doomed, or am I just spiralling?
From cheating fears to partner doubts, life with Relationship OCD can be exhausting. One writer reflects on what it’s like to live with this misunderstood condition—and why online culture could be making things worse.
It’s 2am in a dingy nightclub toilet, and I’m panicking that I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life. I replay the situation over and over in my head, committing it to memory so I can confess every detail tomorrow. You’re probably thinking I’ve committed a crime or some kind of horrendous atrocity. The reality? A random man pushed past me to get through the crowd and politely apologised.
While a stranger’s body passing mine obviously doesn’t constitute cheating on my boyfriend, my mind convinces me otherwise. Feelings of panic and guilt bubble over, drowning out any sort of sense and rationale. Only 10 minutes prior to this, I’d been enjoying a night out with my boyfriend. Now, I’m spiralling. Did I courteously smile back in a ‘bad’ way? Did I purposely stand in his way? My brain digs and digs, searching for potential reasons behind my perceived disloyalty. I push the feeling away, but it comes back stronger. The only way to alleviate it is to carry out my five-step compulsion: write it down, check it, copy it over to another document, check again, and then, finally, confess.
This is Relationship Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (ROCD), and I experience these feelings a lot. ROCD is a form of OCD — itself a chronic mental health condition characterised by obsessive thoughts and compulsive behaviours — where the focus of the distress centres around intimate relationships. Even though I am in a happy, healthy relationship with my boyfriend (who never makes me feel like I need to worry about any of this), my ROCD materialises as a little voice in my head that polices my every move and thought.
I overanalyse everything from the way I walk down the street (‘Were you trying to attract someone?’), the expression in my voice (‘Did you accidentally flirt?’), and my ‘true’ intentions behind things as mundane as polite small talk (‘Should you really make conversation with another man?’). ROCD claws at my brain to answer these nonsensical questions, diminishing my sense of identity in the process of trying to be the ‘perfect’ partner. And yet, as much as my boyfriend reassures me that I haven’t done anything wrong, it doesn’t stop these worries from resurfacing again and again, like an anxiety-riddled whack-a-mole.
Although this can be an incredibly isolating experience, ROCD is a relatively common form of OCD, with data from treatment and therapy service NOCD suggesting that it affects 51% of OCD sufferers. But, as OCD, which is most prevalent in women, only affects around 1.2% of the UK population, according to the charity OCD-UK, ROCD is, in general, pretty rare. And yet, in 2025, ‘Relationship OCD’ was the second most Googled relationship-related query in the UK, as per data shared exclusively with Cosmopolitan UK, while ‘relationship anxiety’ was first.
So, what does the growing prevalence of romantic anxiety mean for ROCD sufferers? And, at a time when we’re being relentlessly bombarded by messaging around what love, sex, and relationships ‘should’ look like, could modern dating culture be exacerbating our symptoms?
Doubt, fear, uncertainty
For those who experience ROCD, it’s not the relationship that’s the problem, explains cognitive behavioural therapist Tracy Foster: “It’s the way OCD attaches and creates persistent doubt, fear and a need for certainty.” For some, Foster notes, this may present as feelings of guilt or a fear of wrongdoing in their relationships, like in my experience at the club. For others, the person with ROCD may question if the relationship is ‘right’, whether they love their partner ‘enough’, and doubt aspects about them, such as appearance, personality traits, habits, or perceived flaws.
ROCD sufferers often have intrusive thoughts, which Foster describes as “repetitive, unwanted thoughts or questions that feel urgent and important, even when they go against how the person actually feels”. They may also experience ruminations, a need to seek reassurance from family, friends, or the internet, feel a “strong urge to [confess] their thoughts, doubts, or perceived wrongdoings”, and engage in compulsive checking; this could be internally checking their feelings or monitoring external factors, such as whether they find other people attractive besides their partner (and if that’s ‘allowed’).
As with so many things, social media isn’t helping. Our feeds are inundated with buzzy relationship platitudes — such as: ‘Trust your gut’, ‘Spot the red flags’, and ‘Never settle’ — photos and videos of ‘perfect’ relationships, and therapy speak-laden dating advice from unqualified influencers. Meanwhile, dating apps are designed to convince us that someone better is just a swipe away. All of this can be confusing and stressful for most people, but a nightmare for those with anxious tendencies. Foster says that modern messaging can “unintentionally amplify” ROCD’s need for certainty surrounding your relationship.
It’s not so surprising then, that a 2016 study published in the Frontiers In Psychiatry journal found that ROCD symptoms were linked to depression and low relationship satisfaction. Even though research has shown that turning to the internet for reassurance can lead to increased guilt and anxiety in OCD sufferers, those suffering from this lesser-known condition are seeking answers, and, with few official resources out there, social media is where they go to find them. The subreddit r/ROCD currently has 27,000 weekly visitors regularly asking questions like, ‘Have I fallen out of love or is this anxiety?’.
I saw one user agonising over whether he should stay with his partner, filled with guilt and anxiety over intrusive negative thoughts about her and the relationship, even though he said he loved her and wanted a future together. In the comments, other users offer heartwarming support and reassurance, sharing their own experiences with similar intrusive thoughts and giving advice on what’s worked for them to quell this kind of anxiety.
Still, in a culture that encourages this kind of constant self-interrogation, how do ROCD sufferers distinguish between anxiety and intuition?
It’s not you, it’s my ROCD
Tasha*, 22, was diagnosed with ROCD in 2023, but has been experiencing anxiety since the age of 10 and OCD symptoms ever since she was a teenager. She first suspected she might have OCD when she was 16 years old after reading a novel in which the main character had it, but it wasn’t until she was at university that she successfully sought a diagnosis.
At the time, Tasha’s symptoms were centred around her relationship, materialising randomly as anxiety that she’d stolen her boyfriend from another woman. She says these negative ruminations — which she would obsessively repeat in her head — felt very different from everyday thoughts. “It put a lot of strain on our relationship as I kept asking for reassurance,” she reflects. “My partner would struggle and I would feel guilty.”
Foster emphasises that there will often be a certain degree of “healthy doubt” in relationships and “no relationship can offer absolute certainty”, but that these feelings will usually be “occasional and proportionate”. Putting legitimate incompatibility aside, ROCD sufferers like Tasha experience a “constant cycle of doubt, reassurance-seeking, and comparison, which can become exhausting for both people in the relationship”.
This is my experience, too. When my obsessions and compulsions are particularly bad, they make it hard to concentrate on anything else, which means I’m sometimes not as present as I’d like to be when spending time with a partner, or even at work (try repeating a confession over and over in your head while trying to focus!). There have been countless times where my guilt has got the better of me, convincing me that I’m undeserving of my partner — and relationships in general — and that I should simply end the relationship.
To further exacerbate this, many with ROCD — or OCD more broadly — experience doubt that they even have the condition to begin with, which can prevent them from getting the help they may need. Foster explains that thoughts like, ‘What if this isn’t OCD and I’m just a bad person?’ can feel “incredibly convincing”, adding: “The thoughts often go directly against their values. They may deeply care about being loyal, honest, and a good partner, which is exactly why the thoughts feel so distressing. OCD then uses that distress as evidence, creating a loop where the person questions what the thoughts ‘say’ about them, rather than recognising the thoughts as part of the condition.”
This is a struggle I relate to, and one that I’ve seen crop up a lot on the r/ROCD subreddit. Whenever my therapist would give me a coping strategy to challenge the negative thoughts, it seemed to me like I was trying to wriggle my way out of accountability and make excuses for my ‘bad’ behaviour. I felt like a total fraud and imposter — like I was playing a victim when I was really the villain — and I was undeserving of any support or sympathy.
Identifying the cycle
As it can often be difficult to determine whether someone has ROCD, those suffering from the condition may seek out traditional individual or couples therapy — but, says India Haylor, founder of OCD Excellence, this can actually make things worse. “Unfortunately, many relationship experts are not able to distinguish ROCD from genuine relationship concerns,” she says. “When this occurs and sessions involve investigation, analysis, and discussion about a relationship, the impact upon the person with OCD is detrimental.”
That’s why a proper diagnosis and treatment (typically a combination of cognitive behavioural therapy and exposure and response prevention therapy) are so important. Recovery can feel unimaginable when you’re in the thick of it, but Foster confirms that it’s possible both independently and within the relationship. As an individual, this can mean “developing self-awareness, self-compassion, emotional tolerance, and learning not to over-interpret intrusive thoughts”. Within the relationship, it can be by “creating safer communication patterns, reducing reassurance cycles, and understanding how OCD impacts both partners”.
For Tasha, therapy and medication helped quell relationship anxieties, which have since faded into the background. With the help of treatment, she was able to recognise “destructive spirals” and understand that it was OCD and not the truth speaking. As for me, finding the lighter side of ROCD is what helped the most, and I’d often end up laughing with my therapist over the ridiculous accusations my mind threw at me. I can still hear her voice: “When have you ever heard someone say, ‘I’m a cheater because I accidentally made eye contact?’ Be realistic!”
While I still struggle with ROCD, I’m slowly letting go of the idea that I can be the ‘perfect’ partner at all times — and avoiding online dating advice has played a huge part in this. Instead of clinging on to what a stranger on the internet says is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, I’m learning how to recognise my symptoms for what they are: a pattern of ROCD, rather than something wrong with me or my relationship. I still feel an urge to write notes and confess to my boyfriend, but for now, I’m taking the self-awareness as a win in itself.
*Name has been changed
While NHS waiting lists can, unfortunately, be long, the charity OCD-UK offers a twice-weekly support group, where people can share their experiences and discover new ways to challenge the condition.
For urgent support, the Samaritans offer a 24/7 helpline on 116 123.
Credit: Cosmopolitan