The Global Catfish & “General McFakeprofile” Epidemic
(A Widow’s Guide to Surviving Digital Romance Scams and Bad Pickup Lines)
Let’s get one thing straight right out of the gate:
Yes, I’m a widow.
No, I’m not looking for love.
What I am looking for is peace, a steady Wi-Fi signal, and maybe a good rare steak or a well-steeped hot tea that doesn’t go cold before I finish deleting spam friend requests. What I am not looking for is a man named “General Handsome McFakeprofile,” “UN Peacekeeper John,” or “Oil Engineer Paul from Texas (but currently overseas).”
You’d think in 2025 we’d have solved this problem. But no, the digital catfish industry is still alive, well, and apparently headquartered somewhere between “Middle of Nowhere, Internet” and “Whatever country the VPN says today.”
The Greatest Hits of Fake Profiles
Every week, my notifications look like the casting call for Scamflix Originals: International Love Fraud Unit.
Let’s review the top offenders:
The Uniformed Ghost - A man allegedly “stationed overseas” with a perfectly staged military photo and no name tape, unit, or verifiable existence. Usually widowed, with one tragic child in boarding school, and a soft spot for “beautiful widows like you.” (funnier when I recognize the uniformed personnel that the pictures are actually of, and send them a private message asking if their wife knows)
The Oil Rig Romeo — “Currently on assignment in the North Sea,” he’ll claim he just needs a good woman and a quick Western Union transfer to make it home.
Doctor Heartthrob from the UN — Miraculously operating in a “war-torn country” with Wi-Fi strong enough to video chat if I first send him an iTunes card.
The Missionary of Misery — Spreads the Word, loses his passport, gains sudden financial problems. Wants my help to “get back to God’s work.”
The Every-Profile-Ever Hybrid — Blurry sunset. Generic quote about honesty. Three friends, all suspiciously named “Linda.”
If your friend request includes any of the above, congratulations — you’ve been automatically enrolled in my Block & Bless Program™ (As in Bless your heart, dumba$$), now available in over 190 countries.
Let’s Talk About What This Really Is
Here’s the thing: widowhood isn’t an invitation. It’s an identity born from love and loss.
When I post about my husband, it isn’t loneliness - it’s legacy. When I say “we,” it’s because love doesn’t vanish with a heartbeat. And when I say I’m not interested, I mean it.
But scammers and catfish accounts? They see “widow” and think target. They weaponize empathy. They take the sacred - love, service, sacrifice — and turn it into bait. And that’s more than annoying; it’s cruel.
They steal photos of real soldiers, real doctors, real men who actually lived, served, and sometimes died with honor. They copy their images, twist their stories, and prey on women who have already lost enough. It’s exploitation dressed up as affection.
Dear International Catfish Coalition,
If you’re reading this from your Wi-Fi café in Lagos, Istanbul, or Wherever-Today-Is-Convenient — I have a few notes for you:
If you’re going to impersonate a soldier, at least spell “lieutenant” correctly.
“Hello dear” is not the universal key to a widow’s heart.
We compare notes. There’s a whole network of women swapping screenshots of your recycled sob stories like baseball cards.
I’ve survived grief, government paperwork, and military acronyms. You’re not even in the top ten of hard things I’ve faced.
To My Fellow Widows
Stay classy. Stay cautious. Trust your instincts - they’ve kept you alive this long.
You don’t owe politeness to predators. You don’t have to explain, engage, or educate them. Just block, report, and bless their little scamming hearts on the way out.
You’ve already survived the unimaginable. You can absolutely survive another bad pickup line and a fake general with a Wi-Fi addiction.
The Takeaway
Widowhood doesn’t mean you’re available - it means you’re resilient. It means you’ve lived through the fire, and you’re still standing, building, advocating, loving your family, and occasionally laughing at the absurdity of inbox flirtations from “men” who all use the same sunset photo.
So, to every fake profile and international catfish swimming the murky waters of social media:
Save yourself the effort. My heart is not up for auction, and my delete button works just fine.
