Thirty years ago, when my son came to live with us, it didn’t take long for him to notice something was very wrong. He couldn’t understand how I had gone from a marriage where respect and shared responsibility were the norm to a situation where I was doing everything—working full time, managing the house, fixing, mending, painting, and repairing—and still being treated with disregard.
When my daughter visited, her reaction was the same. My brother, his wife, old friends—anyone who had known me before—were horrified. “You’re his slave,” they said. “Why are you letting him speak to you like that?”
The truth? I didn’t know how to answer that then. I only knew I was trying to survive.
It was like slowly waking up in someone else’s life. My former husband had many flaws, yes—but he took pride in seeing me well-dressed, comfortable, and cared for. I never had to ask to feel valued. I was his partner, his equal. He would often say I was his showpiece—someone he wanted the world to see, because to him, providing for me was a reflection of love and pride.
By contrast, my second husband also liked to appear generous. He liked it when people thought he was a good provider. But behind closed doors, it was all a carefully constructed illusion. Almost everything I had—my jewellery, my clothes, my car, the furniture—came from my hard work, my inheritance, or my family. He contributed very little financially or emotionally. But he took credit for it all.
He once asked me to sell my mother’s engagement ring—worth £8,000—and “put it in the pot.” I did sell my car, which I had paid for with my own money, and that went into the pot too. When I received an inheritance, I shared it with him. I paid for everything: the dog, the bills, even repairs. And he? He simply coasted, all while maintaining his freedom, his hobbies, and his entitlement.
This is a classic case of covert financial and emotional abuse, which so often goes unseen—even by the victim. These abusers don’t usually scream or hit but I had that too. They manipulate. They charm outsiders. They create a dynamic where the partner feels obligated, less than, or somehow failing if they don’t keep giving and giving.
Psychologically, people like this often exhibit narcissistic traits or tendencies. They:
- Exploit others for personal gain, especially financially or emotionally.
- Feel entitled to your time, your energy, your resources—without reciprocating.
- Take credit for things they didn’t provide, all while gaslighting you into believing you’re lucky to have them.
- Resent your independence, subtly undermining your self-worth so you don’t leave or question them.
- Lack true empathy, only showing concern when it benefits their image.
Even the one anniversary gift he gave me—he asked for it back. Likely to give to his girlfriend. This wasn’t just disrespectful. It was dehumanising.
What people didn’t understand, and what I barely understood myself at the time, is that abuse doesn’t always show up in bruises or broken bones. Sometimes, it shows up in broken bank accounts, broken confidence, and a soul slowly crushed by relentless invalidation.
And yet—here I am.
Despite everything, I survived. I escaped. I found clarity in the rubble of confusion and fear. I’m no longer funding someone else’s comfort while depriving myself of the dignity I deserve.
To anyone reading this who feels something isn’t right but can’t quite name it:
If your partner benefits from your sacrifices while giving little in return…
If they strip you of your resources, your voice, your sparkle…
If the only things you’re “sharing” are your money and your pain…
That is not love. That is exploitation.
You are not crazy. You are not weak.
You are waking up—and that is your greatest power.
— Linda C J Turner
Trauma Therapist | Neuroscience & Emotional Intelligence Practitioner | Advocate for Women’s Empowerment
