35
The night before the Full Moon Ceremony, I’m all smiles and laughter in Jenny’s office.
Jenny smiles with me, her pressed pants accentuating her long, crossed legs. “I know you’ve had some disappointments lately, but I’m honestly so impressed with your progress! How are you feeling about it?”
I nod, taking a deep breath. “I want to be proud.”
“But?”
“But...”
I pause with no idea what to explain. It’s so hard to tiptoe around Lycan culture with Jenny. All she knows is that Noah shares a moon cycle-centric spirituality with my father and that Noah is helping me trace my cultural roots. All of which is true.
I stick with the bits of truth I’ve told her, even if I have to leave out the wolfy details. “There’s a cultural event with Noah this weekend - one of the most important ones I’ll join. I don’t feel fully prepared to participate.”
“Does Noah know this?”
“Yes. But he has a lot of influence there, so he thinks I shouldn’t have to worry about impressing anyone else.” I pick at my nails. “But I want to look good by his side. I really want to be involved in this community.”
Jenny pauses, studying my sudden tears. “What’s this bringing up for you?”
“I guess I just feel left out. A bit of grief. Hurt. But not by Noah, or Amy, or anyone else in my life right now, which is what makes this so hard.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t blame a dead person.”
Jenny smirks. “Well, you can...”
I sputter out a laugh through my tears. “I could, but I feel bad.”
“It sounds like they made you feel bad too.”
“Y-yeah.”
“And now you’re still alive, having to face how that pain actually feels.”
I swallow hard, digging down to the truth. “I wish my dad involved me in his culture and spirituality more before he died. I feel like I missed out on a community I could’ve had to support me this whole time.”
Jenny’s eyebrows warp in sympathy, but my heart sets into a heavy pound. Dammit, she’s going to wonder why my parents left me out again. It’s impossible to explain without the wolfy details.
Thankfully, Jenny doesn’t mention that again. “Are you worried Noah won’t accept you into the community either?”
“No, I know he’ll accept me. In all ways. Which is why I want to tell him about my OCD diagnosis too. I just haven’t found the right time to bring it up.”
Jenny gets a scheming look on her face that makes my heart race. “The ‘right’ time, huh?”
I laugh. “Ugh, I know. That’s totally OCD talking.”
“Well, what if I was here to help guide the conversation?”
I grip my jeans. “Like... Next Tuesday or Friday?”
She shrugs. “Or today. Isn’t he picking you up after our session?”
Oh, God. Today?
Even though I didn’t say that out loud, Jenny laughs. “I know that face. Are you waiting to tell him because you’re not ready yet, or are you worried it’ll hurt him?”
I sigh through a laugh. “You’re right, as usual. I’m more worried it’ll hurt him. Which sounds like an intrusive thought...”
She smiles. “Then what do you say? Should we call Noah in?”
A momentous feeling wells in my chest. Strong enough to get Noah’s attention.
I know you’re in therapy so you don’t have to respond, but I’m here for you, sweet Omega.
Ugh, I love him.
I nod to Jenny, feeling like it’s now or never.
Actually, my shy Alpha, can you join me in therapy? I need to tell you something.
Relief allows me to relax into the couch cushions.
But Noah’s emotions heighten into alert. Are you upset with me? Did I do something wrong or hurt you?
Oh, God, no! I’m so sorry! My jaw clenches, and Jenny’s eyes widen. This is actually about what I told you once - how I get really afraid of certain things. But I want to explain why.
I’ll be there in five minutes.
I’m left gaping at the immediate resolve in Noah’s stance. This felt like an even bigger relief for him. Like he’s been waiting for me to let him in. Patiently, at that. I appreciate him so much.
Jenny’s head tilts at the whirring emotions flicking across my face. “So... Are you going to call or text him, or...?”
Shit, I forgot I was using mindlink in front of her. It must’ve looked like I blanked out. I laugh it off, almost dropping my phone before tapping Noah’s name on my contacts. “Whoops! Actually contacting him would help, wouldn’t it?”
Jenny laughs with me, but I know she’s studying me a little closer - a slight pinch tugging her eyebrows together.
After multiple rings, I wonder if Noah will answer at all. Yasmine made a joke the other day about Noah’s year-old, unread texts. Maybe he won’t even–
“Uh... Hello?”
I flush at his precious, confused voice. Hearing his rich tone through the phone for the first time wipes the tension from my forehead as I break into a beaming smile. “Hi. I know I’m in the middle of therapy, but I wanted to see if you had time to join me?”
Noah chuckles softly into the receiver. Did Jenny notice your adorable, blank-faced mindlinking too?
Yes! Play along!
He doesn’t skip a beat. “I’d love to join you, sweet Om– Heart. Sweetheart.”
It’s my turn to giggle before saying goodbye to Noah. I awkwardly smile at Jenny. “He’s on his way.”
Jenny fills the waiting time for Noah, checking in about my Exposure and Response Prevention homework, but I have trouble focusing. When Noah arrives within three minutes instead of five, his text’s vibration jolts me in my seat.
Jenny gasps. “Oh, my goodness! Are you okay?”
I sigh, gripping my pounding heart. “I was getting anxious for Noah’s text to come in. I guess I just care about him so much that I’m a little frazzled.”
“Do you not want to do this today? If you’re not feeling ready, we can try again soon.”
“No– I’m nervous, but I know I want to do this.”
Glancing at Noah’s text, I break the tension with a sputtering laugh.
Noah (5:23PM):here.. texting like a human. fingers 2 big
Jenny laughs at my reaction, even without knowing what Noah wrote. “Well, laughter is one way to help with nerves! What did he say?”
I swallow hard, biting back the fear as it chokes out my smile. “He’s here.”
“Aww, honey... I’m going to be here the whole time, okay? You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Thank you, Jenny.”
We have to listen closely for Noah’s quiet entrance into the waiting room, muffled by Jenny’s office door. But I already know it’s him. His wolf bounds up to mine in our bond, and I smile despite the nerves.
By the time Jenny greets Noah and he awkwardly shuffles his massive frame through her door, Noah cuddles in next to me, studying my face.
I have no idea what to say. “Uh– w-well...”
Noah puts his arm around my shoulders, his scent softening them just as much as his touch. “It’s okay. I’m here because I want to know how I can support you.”
Already on the verge of tears, I look at Jenny for her reaction. She mouths, “So sweet,” and I couldn’t agree more. Gazing into Noah’s eyes, I steel myself.
“Remember when you mentioned never wanting to hurt me, even by mistake?” I grip the couch cushion between us, knowing that’s an obvious “yes” from Noah. “That’s actually what my OCD makes me afraid of the most too. Then PTSD sort of tag-teams with it, trapping me in a fear cycle...” I pinch my palm, unsure what else to do with my nervous energy. “Basically, I have both.”
“Oh, my sweet– M-my love.” Noah strokes my hair, and I bite back fresh tears.
Emotions swirl across his face - impossible to ignore, even if I couldn’t feel them in our bond.
But Noah doesn’t say anything else. He hesitates, and it spikes a primal fear of rejection through my bones.
“Do you know what OCD is, or are you confused? What are you thinking?” I ask - a billion other questions itching to follow.
“W-well, I...” He clears his throat. “I wish I did, but I only know a little. I know more about PTSD since I have it too, but–” Noah eyes Jenny warily before dropping his stare. “I-I don’t usually talk about that with anyone.”
I snuggle in closer, my heart aching for him. “That’s okay. There’s no pressure to share anything you don’t want to.”
Jenny nods. “Just knowing you have PTSD, I’m willing to bet you might be able to understand what Aliya experiences better than the average person.”
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.”
Noah rubs my back. His eyebrows are set in heavy concern.
I sigh. “I know, it’s a trip, but that’s why it took so long for me to realize my OCD wasn’t an ally helping me. Compulsions were destroying my life. They do quiet things down for a bit, but OCD will always say, ‘Well, what if?’ And yeah, what if? I’m not a god, so I don’t know, and I can’t know. But OCD is a trickster, pretending to keep me safe by piling on compulsions. In the meantime, I just get more and more afraid, constantly increasing the number of compulsions I feel absolutely required to complete to stay safe until I have nothing left of myself.” I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans before burrowing them beneath my legs. “It got to a point where I couldn’t do simple, daily tasks without feeling a deep, unavoidable responsibility to make sure I wouldn’t die or accidentally hurt anyone else in some freak accident.”
Jenny nods. “That’s why we want to support our loved ones in accepting uncertainty - reminding them that maybe something bad will happen, or maybe it won’t. We don’t know, but we’ll try our best to figure it out when we get there. That’s life, right?”
“Right. If I can accept that everything in life except death is uncertain, I can conquer my fears,” I say.
“Fuck, okay. That makes sense, but...” Noah scrubs his forehead, concern riddling his frown. “Shit, I need to wrap my head around this, hang on.”
My heart flips. He’s so serious about this. Trying his best to understand. I knew he would, but it’s different witnessing it in person. I want to shout out Jenny’s window, announcing my love for him to the street below us, but I also want to hide under the couch’s lavender pillows, feeling a little too witnessed.
But I understand how uncertain Noah feels. I grab his hand, redirecting his focus. “I know, this is probably weird sounding to a protective person, but it’s also my responsibility to not ask for false reassurance. I always respond with ‘Maybe, or maybe not,’ and refocus on the present, but I don’t need you to take care of that for me. Just being here with me through my discomfort - like you are right now - is a huge help. What I actually need.”
After gazing into my eyes, his worry lines dissolve. Noah grasps my clammy hand, running his thumb over my knuckles. “Okay, if that’s what you need, I can do that.”
With the arm around my shoulder, he ever-so-subtly traces my mark. The loving, gentle empathy that washes throughout my whole being from his touch makes my eyes water.
“It’s okay, love,” he whispers. “I can be there. Easily.”
I lean in and kiss Noah square on the lips. He sucks in a heavy breath, his hands wrapping behind my head to pull me in deeper. The desire that hits our bond flips my heart a million times over. I grip his jacket for more.
As he gives me a soft, humming purr, I’m shocked into remembering where I am on the planet. I release his lips with a louder smack than intended, placing my hand over his on my waist. “Noah, we’re in therapy–”
He jerks away, dropping his head with red cheeks. “Shit. S-sorry.”
Jenny and I burst into giggles, and Noah covers his blushing smile.
As Jenny and I walk through everything I want to share with Noah, he gazes deep into my eyes, enthralled with me. Wanting to know everything he can to support me.
The past few years, millions of intrusive thoughts warned me that telling my future partner everything about myself could ruin our relationship. But OCD didn’t imagine this scenario.
Before Noah, this level of acceptance was too beautiful to fathom. But now it’s real. And I’d do the exact same for him.
After the session, we walk through the forest, surrounded by a peaceful hush of rustling leaves. It’s raining on and off, soaking Noah’s hair and the black denim of his sherpa jacket, but he doesn’t seem to care. He can’t stop smiling, huddling up to my side as we walk.
I laugh. “What’s gotten into you, cutie?”
He pulls me to a stop in the middle of our usual wolf-shifting practice area, taking my hands. “I’m just... Really happy you asked me to join you today.”
My eyes burn as I feel his emotions digging much deeper than that.
All this time I was worried I’d burden him, but now that I finally told him, I made Noah feel special.
Happy tears spill from me. Noah holds me close in the quiet forest, tracing me with heavy-lidded eyes. I cling to him as we sway together, knowing in my heart that he’s the most important person I’ll ever meet. Even if I have nothing else but his presence by my side for the rest of my life, I’ll feel at peace.