For 25 years, I worked hard. I put my pension and savings into the shared “pot,” thinking we were building a life together. I contributed my fair share—50% of everything—yet somehow, it was never enough.

While my friends were enjoying weekends away with their girlfriends, buying new clothes, and treating themselves to the occasional luxury, I was scraping by. Everything I had was cheap, borrowed, or secondhand. And still, I was told we “couldn’t afford” anything.

Funny how that works.

Funny how the tax bill was paid out of our shared finances, but the rebate landed quietly in his personal UK bank account.

Funny how I was given the odd €20, only to be guilted into giving it back.

Funny how now—on my own, managing all the bills, household maintenance, and expenses—I’m finally living a peaceful, comfortable life. No stress. No secrets. Just clarity.

It makes me wonder:
👉 Where did my 50% go all those years?
👉 Why was I always made to feel like I was asking for too much?
👉 How did he manage to live comfortably while I constantly sacrificed?

This is financial abuse.
It’s not always loud or violent. Often, it’s quiet, systematic, and dressed up as “shared responsibility.” But make no mistake—when one person controls all the finances, manipulates the money, and leaves you in a constant state of lack while they live freely, it is abuse.

And now? I have no doubt he’s out there charming his way into the life of his next unsuspecting victim—probably someone kind, with a home, and a little financial stability he can sink his claws into.

💡 To anyone reading this who feels confused about where their money is going or why they’re always the one sacrificing: please, ask the hard questions. You are not crazy. You are not selfish. You deserve transparency, safety, and respect—especially when it comes to your financial wellbeing.

Financial abuse is real. And it’s time we talked about it.