The Quiet Roar of a Single Word
Look, most of us, we just kinda spit out words without a second thought. “Morning,” “coffee,” “ugh, Monday.” Whatever. But imagine if saying “morning” felt like throwing yourself off a cliff. Or if “coffee” brought on a panic attack so bad you could barely breathe. That’s the kind of battle Rhiannon faces every single day because of her Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, or OCD. And if you’re picturing someone who just likes their socks folded just so, lemme stop you right there. That’s not it. Not even close.
This isn’t about being neat. This is about your own brain turning against you, whispering the absolute worst things, forcing you into mental gymnastics just to avoid some perceived catastrophe. It’s exhausting. It’s cruel. And the way Rhiannon is tackling it? Man, it’s something else. She’s recording herself saying these “trigger words”-the ones her OCD has basically weaponized against her. And then, she listens to those recordings. Again and again.
Why Do This, You Ask?
It’s called exposure and response prevention therapy, or ERP. Basically, you face the thing that scares you, and you don’t do the ritual or compulsion your brain is screaming at you to do. It’s like staring down a bully and refusing to flinch. But with OCD, the bully is inside your own head. And it’s relentless.
For Rhiannon, saying these words-and then not doing whatever ritual or mental trick her OCD demands-is a massive act of defiance. It’s retraining her brain, slowly, painfully, to understand that saying the word “bad thing” won’t actually make the “bad thing” happen. It’s a long, brutal slog. And if I’m being honest, it sounds absolutely terrifying.
What Does “Guts” Even Look Like Anymore?
We talk about guts a lot, don’t we? We think of firefighters running into burning buildings, soldiers on the front lines, athletes pushing their bodies to the limit. And yeah, those are brave acts. Absolutely. But what about the quiet courage? The kind that happens when no one’s watching, when the fight is entirely internal?
“I think I didn’t give myself enough credit for the guts it took to make myself say those things,” Rhiannon tells PEOPLE.
And you know what? She’s right. She didn’t. We don’t. We don’t give enough credit for that kind of bravery. Because it’s invisible. It’s not flashy. It doesn’t get a medal or a parade. It just gets a person, sitting there, trying to wrestle their own mind back into submission. And that’s incredibly hard work.
Think about it. We all have those things we avoid, right? A difficult conversation, a task we’re dreading. Now multiply that by a thousand, add in a healthy dose of pure, unadulterated terror, and then imagine doing that every single day just to function. Just to live.
What This Actually Means
This isn’t just a story about one woman’s struggle with OCD, though it absolutely is that, and her strength is phenomenal. No, this is bigger. This is about redefining what courage looks like. It’s about remembering that some of the hardest battles are fought in silence, in the privacy of someone’s own head.
It’s easy to dismiss mental health struggles as “all in your head” (well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, isn’t it?). But stories like Rhiannon’s, they pull back the curtain. They show us the sheer, exhausting effort it takes to just be sometimes. And honestly, it makes me think twice about what I consider “tough.” Because sitting there, forcing yourself to say the words that trigger your deepest fears, over and over, all by yourself? That’s not just tough. That’s superhero-level stuff. That’s the kind of grit we should all be talking about, and celebrating. And if you ask me, we should probably start giving people like Rhiannon a whole lot more credit for the guts it takes to just get through the day. Because sometimes, just speaking, just saying the words, is the bravest thing you can do.
