There Is No Ethan: How Three Women Caught America's Biggest Catfish

by Anna Akbari

Changing how and what we present can alter the reality of our lives and our connections.

“The true identity is constantly unveiling itself, but it’s also constantly creating itself.”

His words were like a knife in me. I felt like I’d stepped into an emotional blender. He was manipulating me by preying on my insecurities in an effort to diminish his own bad behavior. I recognized what was happening, while still being susceptible to it. Perhaps I should have stepped away, shut down the conversation, and hit pause until we could meet in person. But I feared that leaving things unresolved might result in us never meeting. I was too invested. I couldn’t risk that.

He knocked me down, only to create an opportunity for him to pick up the pieces. It felt icky. The emotional drama was taking a toll.

Instead of focusing on his bad behavior or unverifiable claims, I obsessed over my own lovability.

Ethan’s ability to pivot from hot to cold in an instant was chipping away at my sanity and my ability to emotionally self-regulate.

Ethan loved a good argument and didn’t shy away from tense conversations. At one point in their exchanges, she asked if he was the type of guy her therapist warned her about: the type who knocks you down, only to pick you back up. “Switch therapists,” he replied dryly. “I don’t like the ones who warn you against me.”

“I apologize that I’ve hurt you, but relax.” It’s generally not a good idea to tell a woman you’ve pissed off to just “relax.”

“It’s traumatic for me to think that that guy isn’t the person I cared about,” Anna said, referring to Tim’s photos. “That the person I loved doesn’t exist.”

The best liars hide their lies in truths.

We were all duped by an atypical predator, for an atypical outcome. Without our permission, our lives were made into a work of fiction. We were cast in a role for which we never auditioned.