Is My Husband Crazier than I Am?

My husband and I both have OCD. He's convinced his OCD is "better" than mine. Our guest post for Valentine's Day

In case his hasn’t already been made abundantly clear, my husband and I both have OCD.

Mine was diagnosed around sixteen or seventeen, after my parents wondered why I was inordinately obsessed with catching genital herpes from hotel bedsheets and washing machines. My husband’s OCD wasn’t diagnosed until his mid-thirties. He would probably tell you he went undiagnosed for so long because his OCD is far more mild than mine. He has even joked that I transmitted OCD to him. But his biggest defense is that he is convinced his OCD is a net positive because his compulsions benefit other people, while mine benefit nobody except the AI executives who are profiting off my million daily bids for ChatGPT reassurance.

In fact, it was his idea to celebrate Valentine’s Day by co-writing this article to convince you all that I’m crazier than he is. I’m Girl Inerrupted, he’s quirky Jerry Seinfeld. But I know the real deal—I may seem crazier at first glance (or first reading) but he is just as neurotic as I am, if not more. (Don’t worry, he is doing more romantic things for Valentine’s Day than arguing with me publicly on Substack—he is a very good husband! But he’s also a good writer, so this was a fun endeavor for us.)

First I will make my argument for why he is, in a best case scenario, equally as crazy as I am. Then he will have his turn to rebut my argument and go a step further: he thinks I am obviously crazier than he is.