I’m in a marriage that should be filled with love and trust, but my husband’s battle with retroactive jealousy has cast a long shadow over our relationship. He’s troubled by my past—haunted by relationships that I left behind long before he and I met. He keeps measuring himself against those old boyfriends, trying to figure out if he stacks up. I’m left wondering if this fixation is a sign of being cucked, or if it’s simply an insecurity that’s taken root in our marriage.

It didn’t start this way. When we first got together, we were both open about our pasts. I felt safe sharing my history with him, believing it wouldn’t matter since it was behind me. I had moved on; I had chosen him. But now, it seems like he’s the one who can’t move on. He asks about those past relationships, dissecting every detail—how they made me feel, what we did together, and why they ended. I try to answer honestly, but my words seem to add fuel to a fire I didn’t even know existed.

It’s heartbreaking to watch the man I love unravel over things that are no longer relevant. His jealousy doesn’t come from a place of anger, but from deep insecurity. There are moments when I see the pain in his eyes, a look that tells me he’s replaying scenarios in his mind—moments I shared with other men, moments that have nothing to do with our life together. He’s caught in a cycle of comparison, measuring himself against these memories as if they’re a competition he’s losing.

I’ve tried everything I can think of to reassure him. I tell him how much I love him, how my past doesn’t diminish what we have now. I remind him that he’s the one I chose to build a life with. But my words only seem to scratch the surface of his fears. He’ll nod, maybe even smile, but I know the doubts still linger, hiding behind his eyes, waiting for the right trigger—a story, a name, a casual mention—to come crashing back to the forefront.

His obsession with my past relationships has affected the way we connect. There’s a distance between us that didn’t exist before, an invisible wall that keeps us from being truly vulnerable with one another. He’s hesitant to show his own insecurities, fearful of being perceived as inadequate or not enough. It’s as if he’s constructed a version of me that he can never fully accept, a version where my past overshadows my present, even though I’ve given him no reason to feel that way.

I don’t know how to pull him out of this spiral, and it’s exhausting trying to keep our marriage from being dragged down by ghosts that only he can see. There are times when I feel frustrated, wishing he could let go and see the love we have now, free from the weight of what came before. I never expected to be punished for experiences that I’d moved beyond, but it feels like I’m constantly being judged for choices that no longer matter.

The worst part is knowing that his jealousy is self-inflicted, that he’s torturing himself with comparisons that he doesn’t need to make. Sometimes, it does feel like he’s willingly allowing these old relationships to control him, giving them a power they don’t deserve. I’m left wondering if this is a form of being cucked—not in the traditional sense, but in a way that he’s surrendering his happiness to a past that he can never change. I just want him to see that he’s enough, that he’s the man I want, not in comparison to anyone else but because of who he is. But I’m starting to fear that no matter what I do, it may never be enough to silence the doubts that plague him.