My Scam Story #46

A Romance Scam Victim/Survivor’s Story

Survivor’s Origin: FRANCE

This is the original victim’s story, enhanced by the SCARS Institute Editorial Team to improve comprehension, readability, and continuity.

ADVERTENCIA: LA HISTORIA DE ESTA VÍCTIMA/SOBREVIVIENTE DE ESTAFA PUEDE SER INSENSIBLE PARA ALGUNAS PERSONAS. SE RECOMIENDA DISCRECIÓN.

Si necesita ayuda, únase a nuestro Programa gratuito de Apoyo y Recuperación del Instituto SCARS en support.AgainstScams.org

My Scam Story

I’m writing this with a very heavy heart. I’m still trying to process everything that happened, and even now, it’s hard to believe I was fooled so deeply. But I want to tell my story, not just to get it off my chest, but in the hope that it will help someone else avoid the pain I went through.

It started in a Facebook group for divorced parents. I had joined the group for support—just a place to connect with people who understood the chaos and heartbreak of starting over. One day, I got a message from a man who had seen one of my posts. He seemed kind, respectful, and thoughtful. We began chatting, and it didn’t take long for our conversations to become regular. Twice a day, every day. We formed what I thought was a real friendship—something comforting, something I needed.

He told me he was deployed in the Philippines, serving in the military. That struck a chord with me. I respected him. I admired the sacrifice I believed he was making. He told me about his life, about his past, about his struggles. He said his ex-wife had stolen money from him and that, as a result, his accounts were frozen. He said he was stuck financially and emotionally. I wanted to help. I believed I was supporting someone who had fallen on hard times.

I was just coming out of an abusive relationship when we met. I was emotionally raw, exhausted, and trying to hold myself together for my three daughters. Being a single mom isn’t easy, and that experience had left me fragile. When he came into my life, I thought it might be a second chance. A fresh start. He said all the right things. Promised the world. Talked about our future together, about building a life once he came home. Slowly but surely, I let my guard down and started to believe in him.

My brain warned me from time to time. There were red flags—things that didn’t quite add up. But my heart didn’t want to listen. I wanted it to be true. I wanted to believe I had finally found something good after so much pain. So I ignored my instincts. I held onto hope. And I sent him money.

It wasn’t a little bit. It was a lot—at least, a lot for me. Every dollar counted. I was working hard to support three kids on my own. But when he said he needed help, I gave it. I justified it by saying he would pay me back. That this was love. That real relationships meant supporting each other. I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing.

Then he told me he had been granted leave from the Army and was finally able to come home. He said it was happening because of the money I had sent—that I had helped him purchase the flight ticket he needed. He promised me that once he landed in the States, he would write. That he would be with me. That everything we had dreamed about would finally begin.

That day never came.

He never wrote. Never called. Just disappeared.

Eventually, I reached out to the woman he had claimed was his ex-wife. I found her on Facebook. At first, I didn’t know what to expect. But when we connected, everything unraveled.

We video chatted. She was kind. She listened. And then she told me her story. He had lied to her too. Repeatedly. Since the birth of her child, he had been manipulating her as well—telling different versions of the same stories, moving money around, making excuses, vanishing and returning. She believed, as I do now, that he is the same man who scammed both of us. He used our compassion. Our loneliness. Our love.

After that, I received a final message from him—angry, dismissive, and cruel. He acted like he didn’t even know who I was. He wrote one last nasty note and then blocked me. Just like that, I was erased.

I can’t even put into words how much this has crushed me. I’m left questioning everything. I opened my heart to someone I never really knew. I gave away trust, money, and hope—things I couldn’t afford to lose. And now I’m left standing in the ruins, trying to make sense of how it all happened.

The betrayal has left me bitter and angry. Right now, it’s hard not to generalize. Hard not to say that I’m done with men altogether. I know that not all men are like this, but when you’ve been hurt this deeply, it’s hard to believe in anything anymore. It’s easier to say they’re all liars. It’s a shield. A way of protecting myself from ever being this exposed again.

But the truth is, I’m just a woman who wanted love. Who wanted something real after surviving something terrible. I wanted stability. I wanted partnership. I wanted to feel seen and cherished. And instead, I was used and discarded.

I’m still learning how to cope with the aftermath. I’m still trying to forgive myself for falling for it. For trusting someone who never deserved it. I’ve cried a lot. I’ve doubted myself. But slowly, I’m trying to find my way back. I remind myself that vulnerability isn’t a weakness—it’s just part of being human. The wrong person used it against me, but that doesn’t mean I’m broken.

If you’re reading this and something similar has happened to you, please believe me: it wasn’t your fault. These people are professionals at what they do. They know exactly how to find your soft spots. You didn’t fall because you were stupid—you fell because you were open, hopeful, and kind. And none of those things are shameful.

I’m still grieving. But I’m also healing.

And even if I never find love again, I’ll know that I survived. And that’s enough for today.

SCARS Institute Notes:

-/ 30 /-

Thank You to this Scam Survivor for Their Story!
Please Share YOUR Story Here!
We Will Anonymize Your Story to Help Shield Your Identity!