By Casey Knight, MSW, LCSW
Growing up in a small, conservative community, I always felt different. From a young age, I was drawn to the female form, a fascination that would later blossom into a realization of my queerness. However, this journey of self-discovery was intertwined with another, less understood struggle: obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD).
Like many, my OCD went undiagnosed for years. What others saw as quirky habits or anxieties were actually symptoms of a deeper issue. The way I climbed stairs, the tantrums over uneven braids, and the constant worry about discarded trash bags on the side of the road that may potentially contain harmed animals were all early signs. “What if…” became a recurring phrase in my mind, fueling endless cycles of rumination.
Seeking therapy felt like a dead end. Many therapists focused on my sexuality or childhood trauma, missing the underlying OCD. I would find myself spinning deeper, sleeping less, and repeating the same things in sessions until I eventually quit. This cycle repeated itself, leaving me feeling misunderstood and frustrated.
As I navigated my identity as a queer person, my OCD added another layer of complexity. I questioned my attractions, dating men to “appease my parents and society,” and to explore the “what if I am straight” thought. Yet, the intrusive thoughts persisted, often involving sexuality and causing immense distress. These uninvited, unwanted, and persistent thoughts occurred at the most inopportune times and were often too disturbing to share.
It wasn’t until later that I realized my issues weren’t solely about my sexuality. The spinning, sticky thoughts, the years of only wearing green, and the fear of getting close to people because “what if they died” were all symptoms of OCD. I wasn’t just a queer individual; I was a person with OCD experiencing obsessions and compulsions that intersected with my identity.
The lack of specific diagnostic education at the time meant that therapists often missed the OCD, focusing instead on my LGBTQIA+ identity. Today, we have a better understanding of OCD and its various presentations. It’s important to recognize that OCD can manifest in different ways, and it can intersect with other aspects of our identity, including sexual orientation.
My journey has been one of self-discovery, acceptance, and learning to manage my OCD. It’s a reminder that identity and mental health are intertwined and that seeking the right support is crucial. For anyone struggling with similar experiences, know that you’re not alone, and help is available.
Casey Knight is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker specializing in OCD with NOCD.
The post Navigating Identity and Anxiety: My Journey as a Queer Person with OCD appeared first on International OCD Foundation.
