Page 99 of My Shy Alpha
I swallow hard, recovering my shaky breath. Jenny’s trying to help me feel safer to share the deeper truth. The part I’m afraid people will judge me for.
Noah scoots closer. “I want to understand.”
I drop my head, too overwhelmed to take in this reality. But after a tender silence with two of my favorite people holding space for me, the warmth of Noah’s side against mine soothes my heart just enough to continue.
“I get a lot of disruptive, intense thoughts about terrifying scenarios that could happen. About accidentally hurting the ones I love, or getting hurt, myself.”
When I don’t continue, Noah searches my eyes for more. “You mean intrusive thoughts, right? Is it different for you?”
I hate how much my voice shakes. “What’s different is how I respond. Since intrusive thoughts are the opposite of what I want, it makes me so scared I could do something terrible against my will or without realizing it, that I feel a deep, uncontrollable urge to make sure I don’t.” As soon as it slips out of my mouth, panic grips my heart. “I-I never have before! But my brain gets stuck on it, wanting to prepare me in case my absolute nightmare comes true. Sometimes I even get afraid that thinking about them means I secretly want them, even as they’re terrifying me. That’s the obsession part of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. And the compulsions are what I do to prevent it from coming true.”
I pause, peeking into Noah’s eyes. But his stoic expression remains focused. Inquisitive, but not judgmental.
“Are you worried what I’ll think about that?” He asks.
“Yes, I–” Tears sting my eyes, breaking my voice. “I’m afraid you’ll think I actually want to do those things, and that I’m a horrible person.”
Noah breaks into a pained smile, and his stare melts with love for me. “Oh, my sweet...” He sighs, stroking my hair. “You willingly hurting someone is unfathomable for me, Aliya. Your heart is so kind, even at the core of it. I feel it every day I’m with you. To me, that fear just shows you care so damn much. More than others probably know.”
The future brightens by the second – as usual, with Noah. I can’t stop my lip from wobbling. “Thank you.”
Noah hugs me tighter, reaching for a tissue for me. I try to laugh off my gushing tears, but Noah remains serious.
“Don’t be embarrassed. Please, not with me.” His voice is so soft and comforting that my tears warp into small sobs.
But since we’re in this for the long haul, there’s more I need him to understand. I stare at my fingers as they grip my thighs for dear life. “I know we’ve talked about how we’ve both done Prolonged Exposure, but the type of exposure therapy I do with Jenny is mainly ERP - Exposure and Response Prevention. Instead of just sitting with fears during exposures, I have to prevent the response - rituals I’d normally complete to neutralize myself. But if I give into compulsions, it just makes everything worse.”
Noah is silent for longer than usual. I can see his mind spinning - forehead pinched at the center and jaw tight. But before I blurt out explanations, he clears his throat. “So your compulsions are like the locks you mentioned?”
I groan. “Yes, those fucking locks. Or avoiding children altogether because they’re impressionable, even though all I’ve ever wanted is to work with children. Then there are the more subtle mental compulsions like asking a million times if you want kids, checking and rechecking that you’re okay or not upset. That I didn’t hurt you.”
“So... You need more reassurance? In those moments, should I remind you that everything is okay?”
“No, actually. I can’t predict the future, so the truth is, my fears might come true, or they might not. I have to sit with the unknown. Accept it. That’s what usually helps me heal, in the long term.”
Noah bites his lip, his brows furrowing even deeper. “But I have a– a limit, I guess? I don’t remember the term. Something about a window?” To my surprise, Noah peeks up at Jenny for an answer.
“The Window of Tolerance?”
“T-thank you.” Noah runs his hands through his hair, and his anxiety spikes in our bond. I touch his chest, but that doesn’t seem to help. “Y-you know, it’s just– It’s not always a good idea to keep sitting with it if it gets too strong. What if you’re feeling really afraid? I don’t want to just sit and wait while you suffer. Wouldn’t that just put you under unnecessary stress?”
Now it’s my turn to look at Jenny.
She smiles. “For PTSD, yes. For OCD, reassurance-seeking can be a compulsion, which is the real troublemaker. We want to support our loved ones, not OCD. Soothing anxieties or fears might appear to help, but it really just gives the disorder fuel.”
“I-I’m not following,” Noah says.
She uncrosses her legs, leaning in. Noah leans in with her.
“Let’s say you have PTSD from a surgery you barely survived. If our Prolonged Exposure session of reading surgery medical journals became too triggering, causing you to dissociate, I would remind you, ‘You’re not in surgery right now. You’re safe, here in this room.’ That’s what you might imagine when you think of reassurance, right?”
Noah nods. “Exactly. It feels cruel to just... leave her hanging.”
“It might sound cruel, but there’s an important nuance here; you’re not reassuring Aliya in those moments, you’re reassuring her OCD. Using the surgery example, someone with OCD might seek absolute certainty that they also won’t trip on the stairs in a freak accident and need brain surgery. But accidents happen, right? If we promise, ‘It’s okay, that won’t happen,’ we don’t actually know for certain - we all could have a deadly fall, anytime we use stairs. That dose of ‘reassurance’ isn’t actual reassurance; it’s false promises.”
Noah’s stress wavers in our bond, sending my body into anxious chills. “But that’s not likely. Why can’t I just explain why it’s probably not going to happen?”
“But it could, right? You might logically think these scenarios are unlikely, but OCD doesn’t care about likelihood. It targets our greatest fears, and no one wants their worst fears to come true. A possibility is too great a risk. But no matter how many compulsions someone completes, there’s never going to be a way of ensuring bad things won’t happen. That’s how reassurance compulsions are a hidden trap.”