Coaching 101: Narcissistic Financial Abuse

The story of Bruiser and Sally did not begin gently—it began with wounds.

He was a covert malignant narcissist. She was a child of neglect who grew into an empath, searching for a kind of love she had never truly known. What Sally longed for most was her mother’s love, and she went out into the world trying to find it. Instead, she kept finding people who reflected that same absence. Bruiser, though she didn’t yet understand it, needed someone to control and diminish. They were drawn together by similar childhood wounds—an unspoken, dangerous symmetry. It was a recipe for disaster.

Bruiser wasn’t formally diagnosed until 2014, when he was identified as having narcissistic personality disorder, along with borderline personality disorder with histrionic traits. Even then, Sally didn’t yet have the tools to leave. Those would come later, at a cost.

What Sally couldn’t see was that Bruiser had chosen her carefully. He recognized her loyalty, her resilience, and her tendency to work harder when things fell apart rather than walk away. He wanted someone he could shape—someone who would stay when others had not. Beneath it all, he carried a deep hatred for his mother, and that resentment bled into every relationship he had with women. Each one, in some way, became a target for the pain he never resolved.

Bruiser’s childhood had been marked by rejection. His mother resented his birth, resented that he was a boy, and viewed him as a difficult child. Her criticism and lack of affection left lasting damage. Whatever he might have been was overshadowed by what he became—a man driven by control, manipulation, and unresolved anger. Against that, Sally never really stood a chance.

One of the more insidious ways he hurt Sally was through financial manipulation. He pressured Sally to let him move into the home she still owned with her ex-husband, yet contributed very little to maintaining it. He made promises about money that rarely materialized, always accompanied by excuses about his struggling business. As the financial strain grew, Sally stretched herself thinner and thinner—working for free in his business while also cleaning homes and running a daycare just to keep things afloat.

It wore on her. Leaving the house to scrub other people’s floors and toilets while he stayed home watching television felt deeply unfair, though she tried to rationalize it. He often claimed debilitating back pain from his time in the military—pain that seemed to disappear when it was time to teach karate at his studio. What Sally didn’t realize was that much of this imbalance was intentional. Bruiser thrived on control, and he treated life like a strategy game, inspired by books like The Art of War. In his mind, Sally wasn’t a partner—she was an opponent he intended to outmaneuver.

Without her realizing it, he was systematically destabilizing her. He withheld money, ensuring that the home she owned slipped closer and closer to foreclosure. He refused to invest in what he saw as “another man’s house,” despite living there himself. For nine months, he contributed just enough to prolong the crisis but never enough to resolve it.

Eventually, the inevitable happened: Sally was told she would lose her home.

When she broke down, Bruiser comforted her. He held her, even shed tears, and promised he would do better. But behind that performance was calculation. As Sally worked even harder to save what she could, he began to resent her absence—and quietly started sleeping with mother’s and husband’s connected to his business which Sally had no idea about. All the while, he watched her exhaust herself trying to support the household that included their child, her son, and his daughter.

There were deeper layers to his cruelty. Sally didn’t know that he also resented her for having her tubes tied after the birth of their child. In his mind, she had denied him something, and his actions became another form of punishment. She had no idea how much he had come to despise her.

Then, at the final moment—when Sally was at her breaking point—he made his move.

After her complete emotional collapse, Bruiser presented himself as the solution. He suggested she sell him the house for a dollar so he could secure a VA mortgage and “save the family home.” It felt like rescue, even though it came after months of refusal to help. With no options left, Sally had to agreed, not realizing she had fallen into a well-worn pattern of manipulation—one designed to strip her of control entirely.

Only later did she understand the deeper conditioning behind his actions, rooted in beliefs passed down to him: that control over finances meant control over the relationship, and that dependence ensured obedience.

In the end, years later, Bruiser lost the house anyway. It was one of multiple properties affected by his mismanagement and manipulation. But by then, Sally had begun to see the truth. She had already left him, though not without scars. The experience nearly broke her. Bruiser was an ultimate loser.

But she survived.

Today, Sally is no longer under Bruiser’s control—financially or emotionally. What she endured became a hard-earned lesson, one she now uses to help other women recognize the patterns of narcissistic abuse before they become trapped in them.

Her story is painful, but it is no longer powerless. Her pain heals others.

Have you ever experienced abuse like this? Your story matters too.

Dezi Golden

Reiki Healing Practitioner & Life Coach

If you're ready for deeper healing support, coaching, or a Reiki clearing session with Dezi contact (575) 932-9741.