My husband and I should be building a future together, but instead, it feels like we’re stuck in the past—my past. His retroactive jealousy has slowly wrapped itself around our marriage, and it’s suffocating us both. I’ve always been open about the fact that I had relationships before him, and at first, he didn’t seem to care. He even seemed curious, asking playful questions about my past loves as if they were old stories from another lifetime. But over time, those playful questions turned into something darker, more intrusive. Now, it feels like he’s obsessed with my history in a way that makes me feel trapped.

Every few days, he finds a new reason to bring up my exes. It’s as if he’s piecing together a puzzle that only he can see, trying to figure out if they had something he lacks. “Was he more successful than me?” he asks when we drive by a nice house. “Did you love him more than you love me?” he wonders when we’re having a quiet dinner together. These questions aren’t asked out of casual curiosity—they’re loaded with insecurity. He’s constantly measuring himself against men I haven’t seen or spoken to in years, and no amount of reassurance seems to calm his mind.

The worst part is that his jealousy has started to seep into every aspect of our lives. He doesn’t just ask about the men I’ve been with; he wants to know everything about the memories we shared. If I mention a fun trip I took before I met him, he wants to know who I was with, what we did, and whether I had a better time than I do with him. The pressure is unbearable. I can’t even talk about my own life without fearing that it will set off another wave of comparisons.

I find myself censoring what I say around him, avoiding stories about my past altogether. I don’t want to fuel his insecurities, but I also don’t want to live in fear of triggering his jealousy. I’ve even started lying by omission, leaving out details just to keep the peace. It’s a strange feeling, almost like I’m erasing parts of who I am to protect his fragile sense of self-worth. And yet, I can’t help but wonder—is this really what love is supposed to feel like?

I’ve tried talking to him about it. I’ve told him, again and again, that those relationships are long over, that they don’t matter now. But no matter how many times I say it, he doesn’t seem to believe me. He says he trusts me, but his actions tell a different story. It’s as if he’s competing in a race against men who no longer exist in my life. I can see how much it’s eating at him, but I don’t know how to help him.

The truth is, I’m starting to feel resentful. I love my husband, but his jealousy is draining the joy out of our marriage. Instead of enjoying the life we’ve built together, we’re stuck reliving a past that I thought was behind me. I miss the days when we could talk freely, without these invisible ghosts hovering over us. I miss the man who was confident in our love, the man who didn’t need constant reassurance that he was “better” than anyone who came before him.

I don’t know how much longer I can live like this. I want to move forward, to build new memories with him that aren’t tainted by comparisons to my past. But if he can’t let go of his jealousy, I fear we’ll never truly be free. Our marriage will always be haunted by the shadow of what came before, and I don’t know if I can bear that weight forever.