Welcome to the
SCARS Institute’s
Scam Survivor Stories

After the scam, my emotional state collapsed into a level of misery I had never experienced before. It felt as though my world had been hollowed out from the inside. The betrayal I had suffered was not just financial; it had torn apart my sense of trust, my confidence in my own judgment, and even my belief in my ability to survive adversity. I was left standing alone, more isolated than at any other point in my life.

The isolation grew even heavier because of the lack of understanding from the people I had once believed would stand by me no matter what. Instead of finding comfort, I found blame. Instead of being offered a listening ear, I was met with harsh judgment. Those closest to me—family, friends, colleagues—looked at me differently. Some implied, directly or indirectly, that the scam was somehow my fault. Others simply withdrew, unsure of what to say or how to support me.

Their reactions made me deeply afraid of reaching out to anyone else. If the people who knew and loved me could not understand what had happened, how could strangers or acquaintances? I feared that everyone would judge me, that they would blame me, that they would see me as gullible or foolish. This fear locked me into a deeper loneliness, one that seemed impossible to escape.

On top of the emotional devastation was the brutal reality of financial collapse. I had been left broke by the scam. Every time I had to ask for temporary financial help, I felt a humiliation that cut deep into my dignity. It was not just the act of asking for help that hurt—it was the fear that I would not be able to meet my obligations. The debts weighed on me like an anchor around my neck, and every day brought with it a paralyzing fear that I would drown under the burden. I felt trapped between shame, helplessness, and the gnawing anxiety of financial ruin.

There were moments when the fear and the isolation felt so overwhelming that I could not imagine a way forward. I questioned whether I would ever recover—not just financially, but emotionally and mentally. I questioned whether my life could ever feel safe, stable, or meaningful again.

The turning point for me came when I found the SCARS support group. In the beginning, even reaching out felt risky. I was terrified of being judged yet again. But what I found there was something entirely different: compassion, understanding, and a deep, nonjudgmental support that met me exactly where I was.

Step by step, through the support and guidance I received, I began to overcome my fears and anxieties. The help I found within the SCARS support community gave me a place where I could breathe again. I could talk about what had happened without being blamed. I could admit my fears without being shamed. I could be understood without having to constantly explain myself. The support gave me back a sense of human connection that I thought I had lost forever.

Just as important was the access to a vast resource of knowledge about scams, trauma, and recovery. Understanding the psychological impact of scams helped me stop blaming myself. Learning about how manipulation works helped me realize that what happened was not because of any weakness in me. It was because someone else chose to exploit the best parts of who I am.

It has been nearly five months since the scam—the crime—came to an end, yet this week I’ve felt a profound and heavy sadness settling in. It’s not just grief over what happened emotionally, but also the financial reality I now face. I should be fully retired by this point in my life, resting after years of hard work, but instead I know I’ll be working for at least another four years. That truth carries a deep ache. There’s also sadness about what I gave—emotionally, spiritually, intimately—to people who never deserved it. I willingly offered a part of my inmost self, believing I was sharing it with someone real, someone who cared. But they didn’t care. To them, I was not a person—I was an ATM, a means to an end. That realization still cuts deeply.

What I’m feeling now is part of recovery. I understand that. The sadness, the anger, the betrayal—they’re phases I must walk through. I’m also angry that a human being could treat another human this way. It’s one of the many painful ways people hurt each other, and it’s impossible to make sense of it when you’ve been on the receiving end.

Still, I can feel something shifting. I know this moment of sadness will eventually lead into the next stage of healing. I’m nearly ready for that change. And I recognize I would not be here—at this point in my recovery—without support. The Survivor School from SCARS has played a crucial role. It’s helping me understand the psychology behind what happened and allowing me to reclaim the fragmented parts of who I am. My trauma therapist, and the strength and solidarity of my survivor sisters in the SCARS Alumni Support Group, have also been anchors. I am incredibly thankful. They’ve walked beside me through the darkness, helping me find the path forward.

Our culture does a poor job preparing children for the realities they will face once they enter the world as adults. Teaching that “everyone wins” and “everyone gets a trophy” may soothe temporary disappointments, but it fails to equip young minds for real-life emotional challenges. In doing so, we strip away essential opportunities for resilience, emotional literacy, and personal growth. When discomfort is avoided rather than explored, children learn that emotional pain is something to fear or hide—not something to understand. This avoidance can lead to internalized shame, emotional suppression, and in extreme cases, self-destructive behavior. We also diminish curiosity—an innate drive that encourages independence and growth—and then wonder why so many young adults remain emotionally dependent on their families.

One of the most powerful tools we can teach our children is the art of inquiry. Asking why—especially when paired with what, how, or where—stimulates both emotional and intellectual growth. And perhaps the first terrain to explore with those questions should be our emotions. Questions like “Why do I feel this way?” or “How does this emotion affect me?” guide us toward deeper understanding. Emotional insight is not just therapeutic—it’s essential for healing, resilience, and recovery.

This is especially true after experiencing a personal trauma like a scam. Victims often face a flood of emotional questions: What did I do? How could this happen to me? How am I going to survive? How do I explain this to my family? These are deeply human responses, but our culture’s obsession with blame often distorts them. We are taught that someone must be at fault, and in the absence of clear answers, we blame ourselves. But the truth is simple and liberating: you are not to blame. The crime was committed against you, without your knowledge or consent. Blaming yourself only strengthens the power of the criminal. It is like unlocking the jail door and letting them walk free. Healing begins when we reclaim the narrative and honor our emotions, not suppress them.

I can see that I’m on the path toward healthier, more positive coping in the aftermath of the crime I experienced. It hasn’t been easy, and while I’ve made significant progress, I also recognize that a few negative coping patterns still linger. They’re not overwhelming, but they’re there, quietly influencing how I respond to the world around me. One of the more persistent challenges has been social avoidance, which is less about fear and more about self-protection. I live in a rural, close-knit community where many families are interrelated and deeply entrenched in long-standing social norms. Despite the visible struggles in this area—domestic violence, substance abuse, gambling—there’s little empathy or understanding when it comes to cybercrime, especially scams. The dominant narrative here is one of personal failure: that a victim should have “known better” or “gotten out sooner.” There’s a deep undercurrent of shaming that leaves little room for honesty or healing.

Because of this, I choose not to talk about the scam with people around me. I’ve lived in this community for about three years, and most still don’t know me well. I tried twice to speak openly about my experience, and both times it ended in judgment. So now, I remain quiet publicly, but privately I have found safe places to speak. I’m fortunate to have a trauma therapist who offers understanding and insight without shame, and I meet with her twice weekly. My husband is the only family member who knows, and his support has been unwavering. In fact, we’ve grown closer in these last months, and his compassion has become a powerful source of strength for me.

Beyond therapy, I keep myself grounded. I stay active with regular exercise, I work part-time, and I explore artistic outlets that bring me a sense of peace. I also participate in the SCARS support group every Wednesday, which has become a vital anchor in my recovery. The people there truly understand. They listen without judgment, and that alone has been healing. Slowly, with the right support, I’m rebuilding my life—not back to what it was, but into something more self-aware, stable, and resilient.

I always thought that setting my thoughts and feelings aside so that I could function at work was just a helpful tool to be able to function. Now I see that I was compartmentalizing. To be fair though I was often told from the time I was 7 or 8 that I was very selfish and that I needed to set aside selfish thoughts. Since I had trouble understanding selfishness I found this exercise hard to complete. The only way I found to help me was to believe all my thoughts needed to be put away. This of course didn’t work either because those thoughts and feelings of being misunderstood would come out and haunt me. When I became a young mother in an abusive marriage I was forced to set aside my emotions and thoughts so that I could concentrate on having dinner on the table at a certain time (not one minute before or after), taking care of my child, and doing household tasks and making sure the husband was taken care of to his standard meant I learned how to put myself last for self care, or even thinking about what I was experiencing. This led to negative thoughts. Yes, I can see I have been compartmentalizing both mentally and emotionally. I had to for survival.

After my crime, I decided I had to be educated. But I felt fear, anxiety, shame, guilt, shock, betrayal, disbelief, there was so much. My goal was to learn, to be informed, to protect myself because I’m not getting any younger. Artificial Intelligence being now a part of scams makes everything more risky and frightening. I don’t want to be afraid but I know that I have to feel it and examine it and learn to deal with it before I can move forward.

It is understandable that you may feel afraid or insecure about joining a support group.
The reality is that support groups are designed to be safe and confidential spaces. Most members have experienced similar challenges and understand the vulnerability that comes with sharing.

Seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. Support groups can help normalize experiences and reduce feelings of isolation.
Sharing and knowing the stories of other people who have gone through the same thing is beneficial to improve confidence and not feel alone
We know that the fear of reliving trauma could be a reason for hesitation about the possibility of talking about what they experienced, but the
truth of professionally facilitated support groups are designed to handle difficult conversations safely and respectfully.
can be assured that they can share at their own pace and that there is no pressure to reveal details that they are not comfortable with, participating in a support group can help them regain control by providing tools and strategies to manage challenges.
since autonomy and empowerment are encouraged, not dependency, hatred or revenge

There are also other benefits to joining and participating in support groups, such as reducing isolation, increasing emotional support, and developing coping skills.

To join a SCARS Institute support & recovery group go to support.AgainstScams.org

My crime has set my world spinning! I was not searching for a love relationship. I am married and have been for nearly 28 years and I love my husband. What I experienced in the crime was overwhelming emotion. Soon I could not wait for the criminal to contact me each day. While I never once thought about divorcing my husband (yes, very strange I understand) the criminal spoke often and lovingly of us both leaving our current relationships and starting a new life together. While this made me feel uncomfortable, I did not question it. I miss that conversation intensely. The criminal used words and phrases that I’ve been struggling to let my husband know that I’ve found I need. It was exciting to feel these emotions, and in many cases gratifying as I’ve never considered myself to be beautiful or desirable. These are not words that my husband uses in our relationship. There is now a void as these conversations would happen throughout the day suddenly popping into my phone with reminders of how much I was needed and how much I was loved. The phone notifications are now silent. I struggle to find something to do and many things I should do are left undone. I see my age, I see the emptiness left by family members who seem to not want to spend time with us since we moved, I see how our culture does not value the elderly or seek their wisdom. In our culture I feel like a useless cog; I’m retired, I’m old and my years are numbered. In other cultures the elderly are sought out, included and valued especially to impart wisdom to the children and young adults. The elderly are not left to wither and die in nursing homes or assisted living wondering when they will have a visitor. Our culture has made it too simple to consign their elderly to a facility who will structure their days with activities leaving their family members free and guilt free to pursue their own agendas.

Each day that passes, I grow more aware of the importance of accepting what I’ve been through. Recovery isn’t just about surviving a scam—it’s about recognizing the experience, learning from it, and actively educating myself so I never walk that same path again. I took a detour into a bizarre, disorienting wonderland—something that feels almost surreal in hindsight, yet is becoming far too common. The internet, once a space of connection and convenience, is now a tool for criminals to exploit us in deeply personal ways. They don’t just steal our money—they steal our trust, our sense of safety, and often, our very identities.

I’ve come to see things in myself that I didn’t want to look at before. Vulnerabilities I didn’t know I had. Patterns I hadn’t acknowledged. And though I know I’ll never be the same person I was before the scam, that realization is strangely empowering. The version of me who was deceived—she didn’t yet have the insight I have now. I know the new me could also be vulnerable, but I’m more guarded, more self-aware, and far more protective of my boundaries.

I meet weekly with my trauma therapist to examine the deeper emotional and psychological layers that played a role in my victimization. It isn’t easy. Looking directly at the parts of me that responded to the scammer’s emotional manipulation—the parts that felt seen, loved, or validated by the fraud—is painful. But it’s necessary. It’s in this uncomfortable work that real healing begins. I have to face these truths, no matter how difficult, so that I can move forward without carrying shame or denial. It’s not about blaming myself. It’s about understanding myself better.

And in doing that, I reclaim the possibility of living fully and vibrantly again—not in spite of what happened, but because I chose to face it.

When I “woke up” and fully realized I had been the victim of a scam—a crime—I was overwhelmed. The emotional shock and shame were immediate, and I kept everything to myself. I had initially blocked the criminal, trying to move forward and shut the door on that chapter. But at some point, I reopened that door, and that decision became a painful mistake. That’s when the next phase began: the grooming to become a money mule. It was subtle at first, wrapped in emotional manipulation, but looking back, it’s clear what they were trying to do.

I filed a police report when I came back to my senses, but in the meantime, life continued. I experienced a significant family event, and the scammers maintained their efforts over the next two months, while I waited to hear back from local law enforcement. By the end of November 2024, the manipulation turned even more aggressive. They started gaslighting me—trying to make me question my own sanity. I blocked them again. But then came the emails. The original scammer resurfaced and pulled me back in emotionally, just enough to convince me to reinstall Zangi.

That was the lowest point. The language turned filthy, the accusations brutal, the emotional manipulation relentless. They claimed I was breaking their heart. I confronted them about the money mule grooming. They denied it and responded with more abuse. That was the final straw. I blocked them, deleted everything, and stepped away for good.

All this time, I didn’t tell my husband. That silence was one of the hardest burdens I carried—being in contact with criminals and hiding it from the person who loves me most. And now, after learning the truth, he treats me with such kindness and support. It makes the guilt even harder. I know I hurt him by not telling him sooner, and yet he stands by me. That’s what makes this healing process both beautiful and heartbreaking.

It is true that each victim-survivor’s experience is unique, shaped by individual history, environment, and upbringing. No two journeys through trauma and healing look the same. For me, one clear aspect of my path has been the complete absence of any desire to revisit the faces—real or fake—of the scammers involved. The fabricated photos used in the scam feel like victims in their own right. Those images represent people whose identities were stolen, just as mine was. They are symbols of others caught in the machinery of deception, victims whose nightmares may never end because they don’t even know they’ve been used. As for the real scammers—those who have been arrested and exposed—their lives reflect something even darker: a nightmare of their own making, forged in systems that are violent, compromised, and often beyond reform. I don’t dwell on them. My focus is on growth, on evolving into the person I was meant to become despite what happened to me. Life’s cruelty and injustice will always raise philosophical questions, but I choose to root myself in compassion. May I be safe, healthy, and at peace. And may all beings, even those I’ll never understand, find love, kindness, and peace.

As scam victims, it’s important to understand that real harm was done to us—financially, emotionally, and psychologically. That harm is valid and should never be minimized. But in most cases, the criminal who deceived us did not weigh the consequences of their actions, nor did they choose us because of something personal. For many scammers, their motivations fall into categories such as greed, survival, or coercion. Some operate out of personal ambition, some are trapped in organized criminal operations, and others are even forced to commit fraud in captivity under threat of violence. Understanding this doesn’t excuse what happened, but it reframes it. It reminds us that we were caught in something larger—a system of exploitation where the scam wasn’t about us specifically. That distinction matters. It helps release the shame, self-blame, and confusion that often linger after victimization. Realizing that we were not uniquely “targeted” can be a turning point in the healing process. It allows us to stop personalizing the crime and start reclaiming our sense of agency. It also empowers us to be more vigilant going forward. By acknowledging that scammers come from diverse backgrounds and operate under different motives, we can stay more grounded and cautious in the online world.

I am acutely aware that stepping into my new life will cost me my old one. This truth sits heavily with me, but I accept it. Letting go of what was—beliefs, habits, relationships, even parts of my identity—is not easy. I embrace this process with care and as much grace as I can hold, knowing it is necessary for growth. The unknown feels intimidating. It’s uncomfortable and often overwhelming, yet I know it is the place where transformation begins. To become who I was meant to be, I must walk through this uncertainty. Lately, finding courage, practicing self-kindness, and building resilience has felt like an uphill battle. It comes slowly, unevenly, and sometimes not at all. Still, I continue to show up for myself each day, even when it’s hard. I try again and again, because I understand now that healing is not a straight path—it is a gradual unfolding. Some days are quieter than others, and progress can feel invisible. But I remind myself that time matters. That patience matters. And that every step I take, no matter how small or unsteady, brings me closer to becoming whole. This reminder helps me stay grounded. It keeps me moving.

Everyone walks their own path of recovery, shaped by personal history, emotional wounds, and individual pace. No two journeys look the same, and yet the destination—true recovery—demands similar inner qualities from all who pursue it. It requires unwavering willpower to keep going when everything feels lost. It calls for effort, not just once, but repeatedly, in moments of weakness, confusion, or grief. Patience is essential, especially when progress seems slow or invisible. And above all, recovery demands total commitment—a deep, personal decision to keep moving forward, even when the path is unclear or painful. The challenges may vary, but the need for persistence is universal. Whether you’re facing a setback or celebrating a small victory, the task is the same: take another step. One more step, every day, no matter how heavy your heart feels. Because recovery isn’t a single moment. It’s a daily choice, and a path you walk with courage.

Finding purpose after suffering such trauma took some time, and a little bit at a time. I agree that trying to have a positive attitude, by being grateful for little things, and being surrounded by people who genuinely cared for and supported me, was key. And yes, small acts like making the bed, folding laundry and putting it away, walking my dog to get out of the house and spending time with family helped tremendously.

En ocaciones no necesitamos palabras solamente sentir que nos apoyan . desafortunadamente algunas veces las personas que nos rodean no saben como expresar lo que sienten con relacion a saber que fuimos estafadas y una disculpa perfomativa nos hace sentir como que invalidan nuestros sentimientos y hacer que las que hemos sido víctimas sintamos que nuestras experiencias y emociones no son tomadas en serio. De alguna manera las victimas pueden percibir la disculpa como un mero formalismo para dar por terminado el asunto, sin reconocer el daño real que han sufrido. Esto puede llevar a sentimientos de frustración, enojo y emociones que no nos ayuda mucho cuando estamos dentro de todo ese caos.

La “voz del silencio” en una víctima de estafa se refiere a la tendencia a no hablar sobre su experiencia, a mantener en secreto lo sucedido por sentimientos de vergüenza, culpa, miedo al juicio o incluso por la manipulación del estafador. Esta falta de comunicación puede tener graves efectos en la víctima, como el aislamiento, falta de confianza o deterioro en la salud emocional etc. Sin embargo romper el silencio es un paso crucial en el proceso de recuperación de una víctima de estafa, algunas maneras de enfrentar la “voz del silencio”: unirse a grupos de apoyo (SCARS) , buscar terapia y ayuda profesional, y si esposible apoyo en su entorno de vida.

When I was about five years old, I often accompanied my mom to the market to shop for groceries. On one occasion, I saw a display of balloons and begged my mother to buy me one. I pleaded, cried and annoyed her so much that she finally gave in with one condition. That I would not complain, get upset or cry if the balloon popped or somehow got away from me. No sooner than five minutes of joy and fun, my balloon popped when I bumped it into a sharp corner. As I sat on the ground trying to come to terms with what just happened, tears rolled down my eyes quietly. It was the first time in my life I faced reality for what it is. That nothing lasts forever, enjoy the things I have while it lasted, and don’t get stuck when it’s gone. Simple as this story was, I learned it early on and used the lesson to help me navigate throughout my life.

If there is one thing my crime has taught me is that I had a very limited toolbox for dealing with this type of situation. I learned my toolbox was further limited by those things taught in my childhood. It is very hard for a 9 year old to understand setting boundaries when it is combined into a lecture on a shortcoming, namely being selfish. These are two separate subjects and combining the two can be disastrous. And it has been. I entered adulthood not knowing how to set boundaries; boundaries for those around me, boundaries for family members and when I entered the workplace boundaries for co-workers. When I entered the workforce it was 1979, computers were not yet a normal part of the office. And the internet did not yet exist. I did not have boundaries for the online world because there was no need for them. Cell phones did not exist either. I think things like bag phones may have been coming into existence. Through my working career personal computers came into being. Even still there was not much known or taught in the marketplace about online scams until maybe 25 years ago when it became a necessity for a company to establish email and online guidelines and make it policy. I have only had a home computer for maybe 28 years and did not obtain a laptop until about 8 years ago. However, the main problem was I did not have clear personal boundaries for friends, family or online. I trusted new people in person especially if we connected. Telling family about what happened to me is limited only to my husband at this time. I tried telling a trusted friend and was called everything from deranged to stupid and I really don’t want to go through that again. I reached out to my brother/sister (transgender) and asked that she call me when it was convenient as I had something I wanted to discuss. In the message I let her know that I was hoping that she could extend to me the same type of understanding I had given her when she came out to me. That was 2-1/2 months ago and I’m still waiting for a phone call. I’m not going to push. Establishing personal boundaries is very important and very hard to learn when one is considered elderly by the world at large. Not having boundaries in place especially on the internet is disastrous when you are now the #1 target by predators. If anyone is like me it should be the first thing on the list that you do (if you have not been scammed): set privacy controls on your internet accounts! If you don’t know how there are many reliable sources out there to learn how to do so. Many public libraries now keep someone on staff that can teach someone how to more safely navigate the internet. The second most important thing to do if you haven’t is add multi-factor authentication to your online accounts and make your passwords strong! If you have been scammed the first thing you do is stop all communication from your scammer: BLOCK AND DELETE! Never again answer an unsolicited email or text, ever! Learn how to protect yourself and educate yourself. SET BOUNDARIES!

My crime was one in which there will be no closure. I have chosen to move forward. I reported my crime, dealt with police that laughed at me. The criminal impersonated a famous actor but insisted on no photos, to not believe anything the internet had posted with regard to the actor. Yes, there are photos everywhere I look of the actor, but now, it is hard to see this person on television reruns, it is hard to think of this celebrity creating the romance that I believed was real. I cannot even insist on certainty. The only thing I know for certain now is that there is no way the real person would have led me through what I experienced. The only thing I know for certain is that law enforcement insisted on the name and then laughed at me and told me to go home and be a good little wife and make dinner for my husband and stay off the internet. The other thing I am certain of is that there will be no closure, there may never be an arrest, but if there was I would never know the criminals in my crime had been arrested as I have no true idea of who there are, what area of the world they are from. For my own sanity I have accepted this information and moved forward. As far as being safe, yes I would love to feel safe but all I can do is to remain positive and be careful. I have accepted I will not know there could ever be a trial. And I have accepted that my decisions could place me at risk in the future. All that is in my power is to think before I act, ask questions, verify as best I can and even after all that really think before I click. I understand that crime is an ever changing beast and that I will have to continue to learn to be able to protect myself in the future.

Am I angry? YES! But I have not called the criminals evil demons or hateful names. To learn there are people who willingly engage in this behavior against others is sad and disappointing. That there are people who will use love to harm another…it’s just too cruel to contemplate. I don’t step on ants! But there are people who are willing to destroy another human being to gain a paycheck because they are successful in making the victim believe they are loved and then willingly give up their savings or retirement to the criminals; that to me is a new low. I know for many of these criminals that they follow a script, that they consider their moves, they ask a more experienced person on their team for assistance if a victim refuses their directive; this is all a part of a normal day for them. It’s a business, a paycheck. It helps them support their family. It is not good. However, I cannot call them names just to make myself feel better or to regain my control. I was harmed! It is going to take a long time for me to recover from this trauma. Instead I have found a trauma therapist, I have a wonderful support group. I choose to make positive steps forward. Do I hope the criminals who manipulated me are caught, YES! Will I know if they are caught? No… For me, the only way is to accept that I am not at fault, I will not regain the money, someday in the future my accountability for the debt will be resolved and I can start over one small step at a time, I accept that I am grieving. The relationship I experienced was at the beginning very wonderful and so easy to believe was real. The conversation was stimulating, the affection that came my way was gentle and loving. I do remember when the abusive language and hateful remarks came just how bad they hurt. My periods of shame and guilt are not as often as a few months ago. I look forward to the day that the betrayal trauma fades. I will continue to educate myself but it is not worth it to demonize or dehumanize the criminals in my crime.

I too may not have found SCARS and I am so glad that I did. I might still be sitting in shame, possibly even going through a separation or divorce. The education offered by SCARS for free is the best gift I’ve ever experienced. Thank you for all you do and provide.
This article was insightful. I wish that my best friend of over 20 years would have reacted in empathy and support instead of judging me and stereotyping me. This made me feel worthless and sent me into a deep despair for well over a week. I thought to myself if a best friend can think this of me, then how is my family going to react? I have removed my trust of this person and I spend little time with her now. She has not brought it up but I feel sure she wonders why we’re not close now. I have not informed my family – only my husband knows. He reacted positively and is very supportive.

My most memorable reaction to the addiction was the frenetic search for a savior (what do I do now?) after I realized I had been involved in a scam. My second most memory was how do I tell my husband which shared space with Oh My GOSH! when I realized how much money was involved. These two go hand in hand for the 2nd ranking because knowing the amount would be something my husband would ask. I’m glad to see the words the addiction will fade with regard to the craving feelings. Recently I noticed that those feelings were fading and I was wondering if this was usual with regard to a romance crime. My crime was intense with many sexual references in the chats and the criminal sharing need and want of an intense sexual encounter with me. I have been thinking that my craving was lasting longer due to those intense sexual conversations. Now I have confirmation of that. And confirmation that those intense sexual conversations coupled with intensely angry abusive conversation could have been the vehicle for my addiction. As was noted in the article the reward and reinforcement. Many times the criminal would withdraw for up to 48 hours and cause me to go into a downward spiral of depression. To my embarrassment I would beg for “him” to return. When they returned the conversation would start in anger/abuse discipline and when I would respond with apologies and vows of “being better” I would often get the short little sentence “that’s okay”. That short sentence would floor me. Shortly after that then it was “my heart, my soulmate, my queen…..” etc. In the last month of the crime I was on a constant roller coaster of love or abuse and name calling. That was when they were trying to raise my status to money mule. I remember questioning the criminal asking if they could treat me as they do right now in chatting how would “our relationship” be if we were actually in person. Wrong move.

I have had trouble with setting boundaries in my life because it got mixed with the message about being selfish. Since I heard constantly during my growing years that others thought I was selfish I learned not to assert myself just to have friends. Many of my mother’s lectures were about standing up for myself and stop being selfish. In my young mind I could not discern a difference or why I was accused of being selfish. So many lectures ending in me crying. I mentally berated myself for being selfish and resolving to do better. I could not see that I was dammed if I did and dammed if I didn’t. Looking back I think these lectures were actually because I was trying to set boundaries that my parents didn’t like and didn’t want to work around. I was their oldest child. I can see now from this article that I trusted first and asked questions after with many people and therefore the hurt and anguish I have suffered in many ways is my own fault for not being able to set boundaries for myself and adhere to them. The reason for that was low self esteem. Now I am again establishing boundaries and I see how valuable they are not only for maintaining my online security but also for building my value with others.

After the scam I thought that almost everything was about what I lost and just a bit about what took me there and what I could actually learn from it. Same for other adversities in life. I learned the hard way that it was about admitting what had happened, learned why it happened so I could prepare myself and heal from past traumas, get to know myself and how I can grow, embrace uncertainty, learn how to act (instead of just react) in adverse situations, and asking for help.

Once I realized I was victimized, I looked further at the Facebook profile the criminals used. I believe the hijacked someone else’s posts and simply replaced the photos. The text for the posts were of different dates, but each photo had been uploaded on December 3, 2023. Of course, I didn’t dig that deep until it was over. They also tried to do a “live video” with me.

I now realize they were holding an actual piece of paper, a photo of the person in the FB profile. All I could see was an eye, eyebrow and part of the cheek because they were holding the print so close to the camera. And there was no audio because “the internet connection was very bad” at the time.

I definitely ignored the red flags and believed what I wanted to believe.