Deception Detection Lab and Ayleen Charlotte of Netflix’s ‘The Tinder Swindler’: How I Was Manipulated by Words

DDL Featured Blog with Ayleen Charlotte

Today Deception Detection Lab and Ayleen Charlotte publish our first in a series of blogs about Romance Fraud.

Ayleen highlights a number of linguistic elements used by The Tinder Swindler to gain her confidence and control her.

The Tinder Swindler uses pronouns, such as 'we,' 'us' and 'our' which is indicative of unity and cooperation and Ayleen rightfully references 'what is not said', noting that 90% of deception is via omission. Finally, there’s 'vague language', which can be equivalent to passivity by not fully describing material events.

Ayleen’s blog is brutally honest. It is a riveting read and we believe that anyone could easily fall into the same trap. Would you?

Deception Detection Lab are honoured to be working with Ayleen.

The Language of Deception: How I Was Manipulated by Words by Ayleen Charlotte

People often ask me: How did you not see it? The truth is: I didn’t fall for a scam overnight. I was carefully and methodically drawn in—not just through lies, but through language. Every word he used, every message he sent, was part of a strategy.

A psychological game where the rules were hidden, and the only goal was control.

From the very first moment, the love bombing began, it was fast, overwhelming, and felt like a dream. He told me I was his soulmate, his perfect match. I was the woman he had been searching for—his dream come true. And he mirrored everything I said. My values became his values. My dreams became our shared future. He reflected me so well, I thought we were perfectly aligned. I wasn’t just falling in love; I was being linguistically seduced.

That’s when the word “we” started to show up everywhere. “We are in this together.” “We will build our life.” It was never “you” and “me.” It was always “us.” That small shift in language created something powerful: unity. A sense of shared destiny. The moment I believed we were a team, I stopped questioning and started protecting—protecting us, and everything I thought we had.

He was a chameleon. He adapted completely to who I was and who I needed him to be. And the manipulation didn’t only happen through a screen. I saw him in real life—often. Our meetings were intense, romantic, emotional. We travelled together, shared expensive dinners, laughed, held each other, made plans.

The connection felt real because it was real—to me. It was physical, emotional, and constant. That made the illusion even more convincing. The more I experienced with him, the deeper I got.

After eight months of near-daily contact, both online and in person, I was fully submerged in the narrative he had created. His crisis became my crisis. His fear became my urgency. And when the manipulation turned financial, it didn’t even feel like a scam—it felt like sacrifice for love.

Looking back, I see how repetition played a role too. He said things like “We need this money” and “This is our only option” so often, they became part of my reality. I didn’t question it anymore—I just acted. It wasn’t one big lie that fooled me. It was thousands of small ones, told with conviction, consistency, and just enough emotion.

But perhaps the most dangerous element was what he didn’t say. Around 90% of the manipulation came through omission. He used vague terms like “the operations” to explain the danger and the money. But what were these operations? No names, no locations, no real explanation. Just a word - strategically vague and intentionally alarming. And I filled in the blanks with trust, fear, and urgency.

And then there were moments of pure emotional sabotage. Like when I received the chilling message about his bodyguard: “Peter is down.” That was it. No context.

No details. Just panic. I asked what happened—no answer. The silence wasn’t accidental. It was designed to destabilize me, to create confusion, urgency, and emotional chaos. In that vacuum of information, I did what I had been trained to do for months: respond, protect, help. And send more money.

This is how Romance Fraud works. It’s not just about lies—it’s about language. Carefully chosen words. Mirrored dreams. Strategic silence. Emotional urgency. It is psychological warfare disguised as love. 

If I had known then what I know now, I would’ve seen the signs. The love bombing. The constant “we”. The vagueness. The mirror-like connection that wasn’t real. The intensity that felt like love but was carefully orchestrated control.

That’s why I share my story now—so others can learn to recognise the warning signs I didn’t.

Because the danger isn’t always in what someone says. It’s in what they don’t say.