How to Escape Emotional Manipulation Before It’s Too Late

One thing that both intrigues and alarms me is how those who seek to control and manipulate others seem to instinctively recognize that people with trauma can be especially easy to target. Has this happened to you? If your sense of self has gaps—which is common for people who experienced neglect as children—you can become vulnerable to overpowering personalities who will gladly define you for you. They’ll tell you who you are, instruct you what to think, insist there’s only one right way to act, and fly into rage if you resist. Someone without those wounds would usually spot this for what it is: narcissistic abuse, emotional manipulation. If you’re on the receiving end, your gut may urge you to run, but years of overriding instinct can leave you susceptible to being slowly brainwashed.
I’m not a therapist, yet when a fellow survivor of trauma asks for guidance because they’re on the brink of surrendering to such a person, I do what I can to help. Today’s letter comes from a woman I’ll call Christa, who writes:
Dear Fairy, Am I wrong to think I need to address the codependency I’m living with before entering another long-term relationship? All right—imagine me with a pencil circling parts I’ll revisit—let’s unpack what’s happening with Christa’s relationships. She explains she grew up amid hardship: relentless work, poverty, and repeated traumas. She married very young—at sixteen, while still in high school—and has been with the same husband ever since. Her husband has long-standing mental health struggles that run in his family. They’ve been together for over forty years, and being around him sometimes fills her with frustration, bitterness, and resentment.
Over the years she realizes she’s become codependent, though she only recently learned there was a name for it. Because of his difficulties, he hasn’t held a full-time job since the 1990s, and she has shouldered the family’s financial burden for a long time. Their only child is grown now and they have grandchildren. She cares for her husband and acknowledges many of his issues are beyond his control. Despite untimely deaths, poverty, struggle, and their codependency, she has chased her dreams, pushed down guilt, traveled, and pursued her greatest aspiration: becoming a writer. That pursuit, however, led to the dilemma she’s now facing.
Around six years ago she met an affluent, articulate, charming man at a local event and they felt an immediate connection. She hoped someone might take interest in her work—perhaps offer a professional opportunity—so she accepted his invitation to meet at his office. The meeting quickly turned into a romantic relationship, bringing all the thrill and adrenaline those beginnings often bring. Both were married at the time, and she tried early on to end things, but he persuaded her she would be walking away from what might be the greatest moment of her life. Like Eve in the garden, she bit the forbidden fruit. She’s tried several times to break things off since, but each time he tells her she’s stuck in a sick marriage and must leave it. He promises he loves her and wants to take care of her. According to him, she’s been too independent and needs to become interdependent—willing to let someone else lead.
Her deepest fear is losing herself inside another person’s identity. His fear seems to be that he’ll reach the end of his life without ever having lived the intimate, ideal relationship he craves. He wants someone who will be with him full-time and believes she has enormous potential to become that partner. Arguments flare when she says she isn’t sure what she wants. She often feels anxious and unsettled before seeing him because a conversation can explode into conflict at any moment. He tells her she can remain in her “sick” marriage if she chooses, but insists she will forever regret letting him go because she will never find anyone like him; he says he’s offering her the love of a lifetime.
At the lowest points she’s felt so awful about not being fully present for either man that she considered ending her life just to escape the constant pain. But the thought of her innocent grandchildren stops her—she can’t bring herself to hurt them because she loves them so much. He minimizes her worries, telling her it won’t be as bad as she imagines and that his separation from his wife was probably harder than what she faces. He claims her husband doesn’t love her and only keeps her around for comfort. When she tells her lover she doesn’t want to move in with him or sleep with him yet, he becomes triggered and pressures her to take steps toward him; she feels triggered in response. He asserts that if a woman truly loves a man she will rush to be with him and won’t have doubts about sleeping with him. He reduces everything to whose bed and whose house she wants. When she says she may prefer to sleep in her own bed and live in her own home, he gets angry—yet insists he isn’t angry, only disappointed. He accuses her of lacking the courage to leave a sick marriage and join a healthy one and claims she’s sabotaging their potential relationship. He even uses PTSD language, saying he worries she’ll flee into fearful avoidance.
He moved his wife out of the house into an apartment about four years ago but still supports her financially and pays her bills; they are not divorced. She has not left her husband. She does not share his bed—she sleeps alone—and she is happiest when she is by herself because she longs for peace. Maybe she isn’t capable of love right now; she feels she needs time and space to heal and to discover what she truly wants. Much of the time she is consumed by guilt and grief; at other times she becomes so shut down and detached she feels nothing at all.
He tells her she’s addicted to a “sick” relationship and won’t get sober while “living in the liquor store.” She’s tempted to move out, but worries that leaving and entering another relationship won’t give her the healing time she needs. She feels she needs to rediscover herself—her mental, emotional, and spiritual footing—and wonders if she’s fooling herself by thinking she should step away from relationships for a while to do that. Guilt and grief haunt her frequently, and when those emotions ebb she sometimes simply freezes and disconnects. There it is—that’s Christa’s letter.

Christa, sometimes people’s situations feel messy to live through, even when the core issue is fairly straightforward — and I appreciate that you spelled everything out and backed it up with concrete details. It’s obvious what’s going on, and I suspect the comment section will have a field day because this man fits the classic pattern of a narcissistic manipulator. It doesn’t take a professional to see how cruel his tactics are: he’s chipping away at your confidence, trying to gaslight you into believing you’re wrong for refusing what he wants, using pathetic little tricks to make you feel guilty and to pressure you into “being with him” because, supposedly, you have so much potential that only he can unlock. Don’t hand him the reins — please don’t let him lead you.
At the end you asked whether you should stay out of relationships for a while, and I want to be clear: I’m not going to tell you you’re fooling yourself by thinking you need a break. You’re facing a brutal choice — a husband who struggles with serious mental health issues and isn’t really able to meet your needs, or a new man who is emotionally abusive and manipulative — and that’s not a great set of options. I won’t say you’re deluding yourself. Instead I’ll acknowledge that your heart is aching for what you long for: your own life, your independence. Having married at 16 is a significant detail; it raises questions about how much choice you had then — whether that marriage was the result of a sexual relationship your parents felt had to be “fixed,” a pregnancy, or something else. That context matters when thinking about whether you want to stay with your original husband. He seems mentally unwell and likely has limited emotional resources to offer; maybe you choose to stay, maybe you don’t — that’s your decision.
What I will say is that everything you describe about the new man sets off alarm bells. Since you asked for honest guidance, not his, consider your options carefully: you might remain in your marriage, or you might leave and secure your own place. Right now it sounds like you at least have some personal space and autonomy in your marriage — your own room and some independence while you care for your husband. I completely understand how unfulfilling that situation can feel and how vulnerable that makes you to someone who shows up and tries to make you his entire life. But this particular man is not the one. You might find love again, or you might discover that solitude is exactly what you need after decades together — you’ve spent forty years married, and now you have the chance to choose how to live.
Things haven’t worked out the way you hoped, and this would be a difficult spot for anyone. I hope you’ll give yourself time to reflect and take active steps toward repair and growth. You mentioned growing up in poverty and enduring repeated, profound trauma — such experiences tend to reverberate throughout a lifetime. It sounds like you retreated into yourself during the marriage and shouldered the heavy lifting of caring for someone else for a long time. Whatever path you take, don’t surrender your future potential to a psychological manipulator. If you have any doubts about what romantic manipulation looks like, one red flag is the predictable line, “you’ll never find anybody like me” — it’s a textbook narcissist move that appears in every discussion of emotional abuse.
I recommend doing some reading and, if possible, working with a therapist. There’s also a membership group where many people find friendship and mutual support while navigating life transitions and tough decisions; it offers daily tools and a supportive environment as members work toward happiness and healing. There’s always a link to our membership program down below if you’re interested. I’ve also compiled a free PDF listing signs of romantic manipulation — you can download it right here. Take care, and I’ll see you very soon.