Five Years His Unpaid Life Coach, How I escaped a Long-Distance Narcissistic Marriage

celestelondon75
Jun 1
8 min read

When Pain Wears a Charming Smile

In 2019, I met a man online through social media at one of the lowest points in my life. My son had disappeared with his father during a court battle, and for two weeks, my daughters and I were living in a mental prison of worry and fear. I was a solo mother with no family, no friends, and no real support system—just this one voice in my inbox who kept showing up. He comforted me, listened to me cry, and made me feel seen in a world that felt like it had turned its back on me.

That attention felt like love. That presence felt like destiny. And that false hope? It became the chain I wore for five long years.

The Vulnerability They Look For

Looking back, I now see I was the perfect target—not because I was weak, but because I was everything a narcissistic opportunist looks for: strong, independent, nurturing, yet deeply wounded. I was resilient on the outside, but inside, I was emotionally raw from years of being the family scapegoat, a solo mother under legal attack, and a woman craving a sense of safety and soul connection.

These types of men—like the one I married—have a sixth sense for emotional exhaustion. They seek out women who are already carrying heavy loads, because they know we’re conditioned to keep carrying. They love that we don’t give up on people. They love that we overextend, over-give, and try to heal those we care about—even if it costs us everything. And more than anything, they love that we confuse being needed with being loved.

He didn’t come into my life to build with me; he came to survive off of me. And because I was craving emotional refuge during a terrifying custody battle, I mistook his attention for safety. I ignored countless red flags—the inconsistent stories, the quick attachment, the subtle guilt trips, the financial sob stories, the overly spiritual language used to explain away red flags—because I needed someone to anchor me when my world felt like it was falling apart.

And that’s exactly what makes us vulnerable—when we mistake temporary comfort for long-term connection, and when we romanticize rescue instead of recognizing manipulation.

I now understand that what I believed to be soul recognition was actually trauma bonding wrapped in spiritual jargon. It wasn’t love at first sight; it was a trap wrapped in tenderness. The phrases like “you’re my queen,” “we were meant to be,” or “our ancestors aligned us” weren’t prophetic—they were calculated. He mirrored my values, mimicked my faith language, and played the role of ‘divine partner’ while quietly assessing how much he could extract from my life.

These men know we’re starved for sincerity. And they become exactly what we need—until they get comfortable. Then their true colors begin to bleed through. The support turns into silence. The affection becomes entitlement. The partnership becomes one-sided sacrifice.

I wasn’t chosen for love—I was selected for usefulness. And once I woke up to that truth, the healing could finally begin.

The Long-Distance Dream That Became a Nightmare

After months of virtual romance and love-bombing, I visited Africa. We got married. I came back to Canada with hope, pride, and a heart full of dreams. But the dream didn’t follow me home.

Instead, I was met with demand after demand:

“Send me money for food.”
“Send money for rent.”
“I need money for water, electricity, and internet.”
“Why aren’t you supporting your husband?”

I was no longer a partner. I became a life coach, emotional sponge, and financial provider. But I wasn’t just coaching—I was funding his entire existence. I was covering both our lives while emotionally starving in a one-sided illusion.

How African Men Like Him Use Marriage as a Survival Tactic

Let’s talk about something deeply uncomfortable but absolutely necessary: how some African men—particularly those in economically struggling regions—strategically pursue independent Western women as a means of financial survival.

This is not about demonizing an entire continent or culture. It’s about naming a manipulative pattern that many empathic women, especially single mothers and solo providers, have found themselves trapped in. This is about truth-telling—so we can stop bleeding for relationships built on deception.

When I met him, I didn’t see a con artist. I saw a romantic. I saw a man of God. A spiritual partner. A dream aligned with mine. But what I couldn’t see—because I was so emotionally vulnerable—was that I was being studied, not loved.

These types of men are emotionally intelligent in a dangerous way. They’ve studied how Western women speak about healing, spirituality, and connection. They know we’ve been hurt and long to be seen. They know we’re often overworked and under-supported. So they become exactly what we crave.

These men:

Pretend to be spiritual soulmates, saying things like “God told me you were my wife” or “We are twin flames” to bypass discernment and rush intimacy.
Mirror your values, your vision, and your wounds so it feels like you’ve finally found someone who gets you.
Use religion, culture, and marriage as a shield to cover their lack of genuine contribution, whispering things like “A wife must support her husband” while never doing their part to actually lead or build.
Exploit your nurturing nature, knowing you’ll bend over backward to help someone you love—even if they give you nothing in return.
Gaslight you into guilt, making you feel that your concerns about finances, distance, or unmet emotional needs are signs of selfishness or a lack of faith.

I was told, “You’re my queen. ”But queens aren’t meant to be emotionally manipulated and financially bled dry.

In truth, I wasn’t his queen—I was his meal ticket.

Once the vows were said, the manipulation went full throttle. The man who once sent daily good morning messages and spiritual affirmations turned into someone who only contacted me to ask for money. He stopped asking how I was doing and started asking, “When are you sending the money for internet?” or “I need food, rent, electricity—are you going to help your husband or not?”

This wasn’t partnership. It was servitude under the illusion of love. And the most insidious part? He used culture to justify the exploitation.

He said, “This is how it works here. The wife supports the husband while he’s looking for work. ”But what about me? I was raising children, managing bills, running a business, surviving a custody battle—and yet somehow, I was expected to be the financial foundation for both households.

It took me years—and thousands of dollars—to realize this wasn’t marriage. It was a one-sided survival arrangement, with me as the host and him as the parasite.

I share this because too many women suffer in silence. Too many of us are guilted into believing we’re not “doing our part” as wives, when in reality, we’re being used as life rafts for grown men who refuse to swim on their own.

And the more you give, the more they expect. There is no finish line. No gratitude. Just more demands. More emotional manipulation. More excuses.

When I finally said, “I can’t keep doing this,” his response wasn’t empathy—it was entitlement. As if I had broken an unspoken contract to fund his life.

It wasn’t until I emotionally detached that I could see the full scope of what I had endured. I was never loved for who I was—I was leveraged for what I could give.

Financial Abuse Disguised as Love

I want to be very clear: financial abuse is abuse.

When someone guilt-trips you into sending money repeatedly while making no effort to support themselves or build with you—that is not love. That is manipulation. That is theft wrapped in affection.

For three years, I drained myself paying his bills and mine. I convinced myself it was temporary. I told myself he would eventually stand on his own. But nothing changed. If anything, the asks became more aggressive, more entitled. The moment I said “no,” the emotional punishments would begin: silent treatment, guilt-tripping, accusations of being a bad wife.

The Turning Point: Reclaiming My Soul

The day I said “enough” was not dramatic—it was divine. It was quiet. It was spiritual. I reduced what I gave to only food money. Even that wasn’t appreciated. Two days later, more demands came. That was the day my soul whispered: “You were never the one. You were the supply.”

I realized I was in a transactional marriage that benefited only one side. My love, my effort, my money—it was all seen as his right, not my gift.

And I was done.

How I Freed Myself: Sacred Rebirth Steps

Letting go wasn’t easy. Narcissistic dynamics run deep. But I took these sacred steps to reclaim my life:

1. No More Excuses

I stopped justifying his behavior with, “He’s trying,” “He’s just struggling,” or “This is how love is in long-distance marriages.” Love doesn’t drain. Love doesn’t demand. Love doesn’t diminish.

2. I Cut Off Financial Access

No more transfers. No more guilt-driven generosity. I blocked all financial channels. I had to teach my nervous system that I didn’t owe anyone my livelihood.

3. Therapy and Self-Love Coaching

I went deep into inner healing. I re-parented myself. I forgave the part of me that needed to be needed. I became my own safe space again.

4. I Told the Truth—To Myself

He didn’t love me. He used me. And that truth was painful, but it was my doorway to freedom.

5. Spiritual Clarity

I leaned into prayer, tarot, and journaling. I asked Spirit to help me see clearly, cut cords, and reclaim my purpose. That spiritual support carried me through the storm.

Lessons I Want Every Empathic Woman to Know

To the women reading this who are in long-distance marriages or relationships that feel one-sided, here’s what I want you to know:

You are not crazy. You’re being emotionally drained and spiritually manipulated.
Love doesn’t look like endless sacrifice. If you’re always giving, and he’s always taking—it’s not love. It’s extraction.
Marriage is not a cure for abandonment wounds. Heal yourself first. Anyone who enters your life must match the love you give yourself.
Long-distance can work—but only if both people are building. If you're the only one sacrificing, you are in a relationship with a taker.
You do not owe anyone your survival. Stop bleeding financially, emotionally, or spiritually to keep someone else afloat.

Why I Now Help Women Like Me

That relationship nearly broke me—but it also birthed my mission. Today, I run Sacred Rebirth Path Coaching to help empathic women like me:

Reprogram from the lies we believed.
Reconstruct our self-worth.
Reclaim our peace, power, and purpose.

I speak, write, coach, and guide because no woman should have to fund her own destruction in the name of love.

From Broken to Bold

I gave five years of my life, over $20,000, and the best parts of my spirit to a man who saw me as a resource—not a wife. But I am no longer broken. I am bold. I am sacred. I am free.

To any woman reading this who feels trapped, obligated, or exhausted—please hear me:

You are not here to be someone’s survival plan. You are here to thrive. Walk away. Rebuild. Rebirth.

You are worthy of a love that doesn’t ask you to disappear.

Have you been through a similar experience? You are not alone, and your healing matters. Join me at www.sacredrebirthpath.com for:

One-on-one narcissistic recovery coaching
Sacred Tarot soul readings
Group healing sessions
Self-love recovery tools+

Let your rebirth begin today. Because you deserve more than survival—you deserve sacred peace.