Catfishes, Tell Us How And Why You Digitally Tricked Someone Into Believing You Were Someone Else
Technology has revolutionized the way we connect with, and date, each other. It's also made it incredibly easy to pretend to be someone else. And when you do so to romantically pursue someone or otherwise exploit them, that's called catfishing. I've actually been catfished as part of an online dating crypto scam. It sucked, and I still wonder who was actually on the other side of the phone.
So, former (and current) catfish, I want to know — how and why did you catfish someone online? What happened in the end? I want to hear your side of the story, and draw it.
Trust us with your confession, and you'll remain as anonymous you want.
Perhaps you were also part of an online crypto scam. You were just one person in a larger ring of scammers, and it was your job to catfish people through dating apps in order to gain their trust. You used pictures of a fitness influencer you found on Weibo. You romanced your target through constant messages and pictures of restaurant food you claimed to cook. She poured her heart out to you, along with $10,000, before she caught on. Honestly, you still feel bad. But the world is tough. And you'll do whatever it takes to survive.
Maybe it happened in high school, during the MySpace days. There was this one upperclassmen who went out of his way to bully you. So, you made a fake profile for a character called Jessica, a high school senior in Wisconsin. You added the bully. He sent the first message, and you kept it going. The day he sent, "I love you," was when you, as "Jessica," broke up with him. After that, he was like a ghost in the hallways. He was never the same after that. That was years ago, and while you would never do it again, you carry no regrets.
Or maybe you engaged in "kittenfishing," or light-catfishing, and created a dating profile with old pictures which no longer looked like you. But it felt good when that cute stranger slid into your DMs. The banter and texting chemistry was off the charts. You finally felt less lonely. Then came the day you two met in person. You showed up to the restaurant. When you sat down in front of them, they shook their head, asked for the check, called you a liar, and wished you the best. That encounter taught you to be upfront from the get-go, so you can connect with people who are interested in the real you. Now, you want to share your story.
Whatever lengths you went, I want to know your catfish truth. Take this chance to share your side of the story and fill out this Google form. I'll be drawing the stories and portraits of those interested — your response will stay as anonymous as you want it to be, and may be featured in an upcoming BuzzFeed Community post.
Even if your story upsets someone, it'll offer us a perspective in your own words, which is something we don't hear often.
