I think what you wrote perfectly describes the correct approach to mental health _in general_. Not just OCD, but also many other mental disorders like anxiety, and just emotions in general. Trying to ignore or repress our thoughts and emotions just serve to "give [them] strength". It's a life lesson I wish a lot more people knew.

[NOTE: This thought got me going on a random train of thought below, not really directed at the person or comment I'm replying to above. Sorry for the slight tangent...]

I've recently started taking on a unique viewpoint of my own psychology. It's more of an interesting way to think of one's mind than an actual theory on the mechanisms of the brain. But basically I started thinking of my mind in terms of the classic conscious/subconscious split, but thinking of the subconscious as less like a ... primitive/instinctive part of myself and more like a separate system with its own thoughts and desires. Kind of like how we imagine the body to be conceptually a separate entity from our minds. Though they're quite intertwined, its easy to imagine that we could transplant our mind into a different body and still be ourselves. I imagine that I could transplant my consciousness into a different brain and still be _me_, but with a different subconscious. That sounds strange, because we're so used to the idea of the subconscious being a part of our us, but hopefully it makes more sense momentarily.

The point of viewing the subconscious like this is then one can say that, like the body, if you don't take care of your subconscious's needs and desires, if you don't give it space to be heard, it will lash out. Trying to repress one's emotions, anxieties, OCDness, etc, you're making your subconscious unhealthy in the same way that you can make your body unhealthy by not eating healthy, not working out, or ignoring pain. Emotions are the way our subconscious tells us its in pain or in need.

More importantly, this allows a subjective _detachment_ from one's emotions and anxieties. To view them objectively. Whereas it's really easy to feel anxious and then believe that that anxiety is _part_ of yourself. That you, yourself, are anxious. But viewing the subconscious as a separate system that must be managed like the body allows one to feel anxiety and acknowledge that it isn't _you_, yourself, that are anxious. It's your brain that's anxious. And it's a signal that you need to do X, Y, and Z to take care of your brain. Much like one would rest when your body is telling you it's hurt.

Again, this is more of a way of viewing the brain, rather than a psychological theory with any basis in reality. It's definitely very derivative of archaic psychology theories like Freud's theories and bicameralism. But I find it helpful none the less. The most important component, and something I think a lot of people with mental disorders have trouble grasping, is that this idea that one's identity is not tied to their disorder. I'm lucky in that I've experienced what my brain is like without anxiety and found out that I'm still the exact same person, just minus anxiety. I know prior to that experience I probably would have said that _I'm_ an anxious person, as if it were some fundamental part of my personality. So that experience has better enabled me to make clearer divisions between self and the flaws of the substrate my conscious mind is running on.

N.B. I'm just sharing a (hopefully) interesting viewpoint. This isn't "do this one weird trick and you won't have a mental disorder anymore!" kind of thing. Anyone who suspects a mental disorder, no matter how small, should seek guidance from a medical professional. Seriously. There's no shame in any of it, and treatments are better today than they've ever been. My little pet theory above is, again, just something I found interesting in the way I view my own psychology.