The Trap was in the Words

By Ayleen Charlotte of Netflix's 'The Tinder Swindler' for DDL

It began with words that felt like magic. Warm. Personal. Perfectly timed.

From the start, he seemed to understand me — really understand me. The way he spoke painted a picture of a future so vivid, it was hard not to believe it.

He didn’t just compliment me. He spoke in absolutes. In destiny. In fate.

“You are love.” “We’re soulmates.” “This was meant to be.”

Looking back, I see that it wasn’t only the lies that held me captive. It was the language. The way he used words to create closeness, loyalty, urgency — all without giving me a clear view of the truth.

When little things started to feel off — a payment issue here, an odd story there — I asked questions. Calm, rational ones. But he never really answered. Instead, he redirected:

“I need you now more than ever.” “We’ll make it through this — you and me.”

At the time, it felt romantic. Now I know better. Those weren’t answers — they were emotional distractions. Carefully chosen phrases designed to wrap me in a narrative, to stop me from looking too closely.

He used 'we' so often, it became a comfort. A shield.

But there’s a danger in that word. Because when you believe you’re part of a shared mission, you stop protecting yourself — and start protecting the mission.

As the relationship grew more intense, so did the stories. Suddenly there were threats. Secrets. People out to get him. But every time I asked for clarity, I was met with more vagueness. More emotional storytelling. The kind that sweeps you up before you realize you’re missing the facts.

And then came the mantras. “This is the only way.” “You’re all I’ve got.” “Trust me.”

He repeated them again and again — until I internalised them. Until I stopped questioning, and started reacting.

It’s easy to mistake repetition for truth when it comes from someone you believe you love. But the most dangerous moment wasn’t when I sent the money.

It was the moment I stopped trusting myself. When I hesitated, even once, he didn’t shout. He didn’t plead. He simply turned the focus on me:

“Why are you being like this?” “I thought you loved me.” “Have I ever lied to you?” “ You don’t trust me?”

Suddenly, I wasn’t doubting him. I was doubting myself. That’s what gaslighting does — it flips your instincts upside down. You go from protective to apologetic. From cautious to guilty. From aware to confused.

I wasn’t trapped by a man in another country. I was trapped by words in my own mind.

It took months to break free — not just from him, but from the story I had been told. The story I had started to believe.

That’s why I speak out. Because romance fraud doesn’t always look like fraud.

Sometimes it looks like love. Sometimes it sounds like poetry.

But real love doesn’t need you to act fast. Or prove your loyalty. Or doubt your gut.

Ayleen and DDL can assist you to identify if you are in a relationship where fraud is involved. For more information contact Ayleen or DDL at www.ddlltd.com