Over the last year or so it’s like my husband’s default has become to disagree with me/question me about everything, especially very mundane things. Some examples:
Refused to add toilet paper to the grocery list since we “already had some”. We’re currently using the last roll.
Says he doesn’t like dinner tonight because I used pasta from the orange box. I didn’t. He insists I did until I pull the box I used out of the trash.
Sometimes instead of outright disagreeing, he’ll ask “if I’m sure”. Am I sure I slept well? Am I sure I walked the dog? Am I sure the bleach is under the sink? Am I sure my wallet isn’t in my purse? Am I sure it IS in my purse? Did I mean to buy a 24 oz container instead of 16? Did I mean to bring my water bottle? Do I really want to watch this movie? Did I actually enjoy the movie? Do I really want to go there for dinner? Did I mean to order my burger that way?
Literally as I’m typing this, he came in and asked me which stores I was planning to stop at to run errands today. And as usual it was “really? That one? Are you sure? I heard someone say that location is dangerous, the other one is better. Isn’t it dirty?” I have no idea what he’s talking about—there’s only one location in town. It isn’t dirty. He’s never even been before.
When I bring it up sometimes he says he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, other times he says it’s curiosity or coming from a place of concern. It just makes me feel like I have to defend every choice, opinion, and statement I make. I have no idea where it came from and I’m just exhausted by it.
First, you need to know: you’re not crazy, you’re not being too sensitive, and you’re not making this up.
What you’re describing — the constant second-guessing, the endless undermining over even the smallest details — is what I call death by a thousand paper cuts. It’s not one giant betrayal or screaming match you can point to and say, “That’s the problem,” but it wears you down slowly, piece by piece, until you wake up one day questioning your own sanity and your own worth.
You said he calls it “curiosity” or “concern,” but here’s the hard truth: this is about control, not curiosity. He may not be doing it intentionally, but intention doesn’t erase impact.
The impact is that you feel exhausted, defensive, and constantly on edge, like you have to explain and justify every decision you make — whether it’s buying toilet paper or deciding where to eat dinner.
When someone constantly asks, “Are you sure? Did you mean to do that? Why didn’t you do it this way?” they aren’t just making conversation. They’re sending the message, over and over again, that they don’t trust your judgment. That they know better. That you need their permission to feel confident in your own choices.
And if that dynamic doesn’t change, it will strangle the connection, safety, and intimacy right out of your marriage.
Here’s where you start:
First, you need to set a clear boundary. When he questions or second-guesses you about mundane things, respond calmly but directly. You can say something like,
“When you constantly question my choices, even about small things, it makes me feel belittled and exhausted. I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing. If you have a real concern, tell me once. Otherwise, let it go.”
Second, you have to hold that boundary. When he starts up again — and he will, because habits this ingrained don’t just disappear — you calmly shut it down without arguing. You simply say,
“I’m not going to defend this. I’ve made my decision.”
and then move on.
You’re not inviting him into a debate. You’re not seeking his permission. You are reclaiming your autonomy and making it clear that you expect to be treated with respect.
Third, you need to take an honest look at your marriage.
If he’s willing to hear you, take accountability, and work on changing this dynamic — and I mean truly working, not just apologizing and doing it again two days later — there’s a path forward. It may involve marriage counseling. It will definitely involve a lot of intentional work on both sides.
But if he minimizes your concerns, calls you too sensitive, or refuses to change, you’re going to have to ask yourself a hard but necessary question:
“Am I willing to live like this for the rest of my life?”
You deserve a marriage where you are trusted, respected, and treated as a full, competent adult — not someone who has to explain her every move like a child asking for permission.
Marriage should feel like a partnership, not a courtroom.
You’re exhausted because your body and mind are screaming at you that something isn’t right. And you’re absolutely strong enough to stand up for yourself, to speak the truth with love and strength, and to demand the respect you deserve.
It won’t be easy.
It may get messy.
But your peace, your dignity, and your mental health are worth fighting for.
You’ve got this. Trust yourself.