I never thought my past would cast such a long shadow over my marriage. When I first met my husband, I believed we were in love with the people we had become, not the lives we had left behind. But lately, it feels as though he’s competing with ghosts, men who are long gone from my life but linger in his mind.

Every conversation somehow circles back to them. “Did he treat you better?” he asks, referring to my ex. “Was he more handsome? More successful?” His questions never stop, and it’s as though he’s haunted by these comparisons. He can’t let go of what was, of who I was before him. It’s exhausting—feeling like I’m trapped in a time machine, forced to relive my past relationships through his endless doubts and insecurities.

At first, I tried to be understanding. Retrojealousy, they call it—this strange obsession with a partner’s past lovers. But now, it feels like something darker. Is this what it means to be “cucked”? To have a man constantly imagine himself inferior, to reduce himself in his own eyes by comparing himself to men he’s never met?

It’s not even about infidelity. I’ve been faithful. I’ve chosen him. But somehow, in his mind, he’s already lost to these figures from my past. He questions my every action, wondering if it measures up to what he thinks I once had.

I wish I could help him see that none of this matters. That I’m here with him now, and that’s what counts. But his jealousy wraps itself around every intimate moment, twisting them into something ugly and painful. I feel suffocated, as though no matter what I do or say, I can’t convince him that I love him for who he is—not for how he compares to those who came before.

And maybe that’s the hardest part. Because in trying so hard to distance himself from these men, he’s the one driving a wedge between us. Not them. Not me. It’s him. His insecurities are cucking our relationship in a way I never thought possible.

And I don’t know how much longer I can carry the weight of his insecurities.