“I really love you.” “You’re the only person I trust.” “I have nobody else to turn to.” In a genuine relationship, such words can carry enormous weight. In the hands of someone who intends to exploit us, they become working tools. At first they are not meant to obtain money. They are meant to get the door opened.
Money comes at the end
A romance scam does not necessarily begin with a request for money. It may begin with a good-morning message every day, attention to the details of your life, and confidences that seem mutual. The person appears to be always there. Then they tell you about a problem: a journey they cannot complete, urgent medical care, a document that must be paid for. Only when the bond seems strong enough does the request arrive. By then, the money is not presented as a payment, but as the natural proof of an affection that has already been built.
The same path can take other forms. A sudden friendship turns into a loan; a supposed relative faces an emergency; a professional abroad cannot get home; a job opportunity requires a deposit; a benefactor promises a large sum that can only be received after a fee has been paid. The characters change, but the pattern remains recognizable: first the relationship, then the problem, and finally the money.
When a promise replaces the request
Sometimes nobody says, “Send me money.” Instead, the person who claims to love you says they want to help you earn it. They show you an investment platform, profits on a screen, perhaps even a small withdrawal at the beginning. They invite you to add more money because the great opportunity has only just begun. In some frauds known as pig butchering, the relationship is cultivated over a long period precisely to make this proposal credible. The profit shown on the screen may be fake; the money paid in is real.
There are also forms of blackmail after intimate images have been exchanged, and people who promise to recover money already lost in return for a new payment. In the latter case, the wound left by the first scam becomes the entrance to a second one. So it is not enough to be wary of an explicit request: we must also notice who is urging us to invest, advance expenses, or pay to recover our losses.
A request made hard to refuse
I do not consider everyone who asks for help suspicious. In real relationships, people sometimes help one another financially. The difference lies in the way the request is prepared and presented. When urgency, secrecy and guilt accompany the difficulty, it is worth stopping: “You must do it today”; “Don’t tell anyone”; “If you love me, you’ll help me.” The request no longer leaves room for a free choice. A refusal is turned into a moral failing.
For me, that is the most painful part. The aim is not merely to take someone’s money. It is to turn the best part of a person — the wish to love, be loyal and help — against them. Someone caught in this trap is not foolish. They may have been patiently led to confuse a financial act with loyalty to a bond.
The moment to change perspective
When money enters a relationship, we need to stop reasoning through the relationship for a moment and start thinking as though that person were a stranger.
This does not mean ceasing to care, becoming cynical or accusing anyone with a problem. It means separating two questions that emotion tends to join: “What do I feel for this person?” and “Have I independently verified what they are asking of me?” The first answer cannot replace the second. A gentle voice, months of messages and even a video call do not, on their own, prove that an emergency is real or an investment safe.
A pause can protect a great deal
Before sending money, I would look for confirmation outside the conversation: call a family member at a number I already know, check photographs and identity, verify a company through official registers, and ask someone who is not emotionally involved for advice. If an investment is involved, I would check directly with the relevant financial regulator whether the intermediary is authorized, rather than trusting a link supplied by the person offering the deal.
I would not send money to someone I knew only online merely because I trusted them, nor send cryptocurrency, gift cards or top-up codes. I would not hand over passwords, one-time codes or personal documents to “unblock” a situation. And if someone demanded silence, that would be exactly when I would speak to a person I trusted. Secrecy does not protect love; it protects someone who does not want to be checked.
If the money has already been sent
Shame can make a person keep quiet and send still more money in the hope of setting things right. That response is understandable, but it gives the manipulator more room. It is better to stop payments, keep messages and receipts, promptly contact the bank or payment service used, and report what happened to the authorities. I would be wary of anyone promising to recover the loss for an advance fee: they may know about the pain only because they intend to exploit it a second time.
A mistake does not erase the dignity of the person who made it. Responsibility for the deception remains with the person who lied. Asking for help is a way to protect oneself, not an admission of guilt.
What I would like to leave my children
I would like you to recognize the affection that makes you freer, and distinguish it from affection that corners you. Help the people you love when you can and when you truly understand the situation; but do not let anyone turn your kindness into an obligation to pay. Someone who cares about you can accept a pause, a question and even a refusal. If proving your love requires you to give up checking the facts, perhaps they are not asking for love. They are asking you not to look.
Papy