Latest news with #emotionalHealth
Forbes
3 days ago
- General
- Forbes
3 Signs You're ‘Too Understanding' In Relationships, By A Psychologist
In a loving relationship, being understood is one of the most powerful emotional experiences. To feel truly seen and still accepted is a cornerstone of emotional safety. It allows individuals to expose their flaws without fear of rejection, creating a sense of belonging that many describe as feeling deeply loved or even 'at home.' But when that understanding is never met with reciprocatory effort or reflection, it stops being a connection and starts becoming harmful. Over time, what often begins as compassion becomes concession. Harmful patterns are excused, boundaries are blurry and one partner begins to carry the emotional weight for two. The desire to be understanding can unintentionally harm the person offering it as well as the one receiving it. There's a dark side to being too understanding. Here are three beliefs that are signs of such behavior, and how to steer clear of it. When someone brings up their trauma, their past or the pain they've carried for years, the obvious compassionate response is to listen and to understand. But for those who lean too far into empathy, understanding can become a reflex rather than a choice. A 2017 study published in The Family Journal examined 374 couples living together and found something fascinating: empathy, especially when shown by women, was a strong predictor of not only how much love individuals felt for their partners but also how much love their partners felt in return. The researchers found that men's empathy tended to enhance their own experience of the relationship but had a limited effect on how their partners felt. In contrast, women often carried out the bulk of emotional labor, supporting not only their own well-being but their partner's as well. This reflects a deeper imbalance. When empathy flows mostly in one direction, the emotional health of the relationship often relies on the more understanding partner. That imbalance can go unnoticed for months, even years, until the emotional strain begins to show. So the next time you hear yourself saying: Ask yourself: 'Is this empathy being met with responsibility?' Because while compassion creates space, it cannot sustain a relationship without accountability. In some relationships, empathy starts to look like compliance. One partner adapts; not just to support but to survive the dynamic. They make small adjustments, avoid sensitive topics and lower expectations. All to preserve peace and avoid hurting their partner. So when someone says, 'I understand that loving you is difficult, but I'm still here,' it's often less about connection and more about endurance. It's a situation where they are trying to fit into the narrative that the other person has built. Over time, their needs begin to disappear. Not because they stopped having them, but because those needs didn't fit into their partner's world. A 2021 study published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology explored the effects of expressive suppression — the act of hiding one's negative emotions — on both individuals and their romantic partners. Across three dyadic studies, researchers found that greater suppression was consistently linked to lower relationship satisfaction, reduced feelings of responsiveness and higher emotional threat during conflict discussions. While some suppression may be intended to preserve harmony, the study found that when this behavior becomes habitual, especially for those low in attachment anxiety, it undermines both partners' well-being. In other words, when one person excessively suppresses their negative emotions, like walking on eggshells and staying silent to not upset the partner, it leads to emotional burnout and relationship dissatisfaction, especially when it's chronic. Empathy becomes self-abandonment when you start slashing away parts of who you are to accommodate a relationship that doesn't align with your emotional needs. One of the most overlooked signs of being too understanding is the slow realization that you're always the one who gets it. You understand their moods, their past and the way they treat you when they are hurt. You make excuses for their behavior, justify their outbursts and try to de-escalate conflict before it even starts. But when the relationship becomes emotionally one-sided, that understanding no longer brings connection; instead, it enables imbalance. You're not meeting halfway. You're meeting them where they are, every time. This kind of emotional labor is rarely acknowledged because it doesn't look like effort. It looks like patience, tolerance, even compassion. But underneath, it's a form of relational overextension, where one person handles the regulation, the empathy and the repair work while the other becomes passive in the emotional life of the relationship. Over time, this dynamic reshapes the expectations within the relationship. The more you understand them, the less they feel the need to understand you. Not because they're cruel or incapable, but because you've trained the system to run without their effort. A 2016 study published in the Journal of Social and Personal Relationships examined 315 unmarried couples and found that in relationships where one partner was significantly more committed than the other — what the researchers called 'asymmetrically committed relationships' — the more committed partner reported greater emotional distress, more conflict and even higher rates of aggression. What makes this finding especially striking is that it held true even when the more committed partner had high levels of emotional investment, suggesting that commitment without reciprocity doesn't protect against burnout. This is what makes asymmetrical empathy so hard to detect. It feels generous. But it removes the expectation that you should be heard too, or that your emotions deserve the same care and curiosity. In emotionally healthy relationships, empathy flows both ways. There's space for both partners to be vulnerable, to misstep and to repair. But when you're the only one making sense of things, you also become the only one holding the relationship together. Take this science-backed test to find out if you're staying true to yourself — or just keeping the peace in your relationships: Authenticity In Relationships Scale
Forbes
5 days ago
- General
- Forbes
How To Feel Better After Crying At Work: Advice For Strong Women
You're reading this because you probably want to disappear right now because you lost control and cried at work. You might even be considering quitting and changing industries entirely to start anew because you believe everyone is thinking about it as much as you are. First of all, they are not thinking about you, and you're not weak. You just got hit with something at the worst time, while unfortunately probably wearing mascara, and you're not alone. A survey from Accountemps found that nearly 45% of workers have cried at work, and women were more likely than men to admit it. That's a lot of tears. So how do you feel better about crying at work? It begins with recognizing why it is not such a bad thing. Your first thought might be that crying will destroy your career. It feels like that because it catches you off guard in the worst way. One minute you're having a normal conversation, the next you feel it coming on and tell yourself to STOP and maybe even pretend you suddenly developed seasonal allergies. It can be so sudden, then when the tears come, crying at work feels like you lost control in a place where control is everything. You might think being 'the strong one' is your entire brand. You've built a reputation on grace under pressure. You're the person who sends calm emails when everyone else is in chaos. And now, after one shaky conversation or performance review gone sideways, you feel like you've just shattered your own image. No. You're the only one replaying it on endless repeat with a mental slow-motion effect. Most people are way too wrapped up in their own nonsense to remember that your voice cracked or your eyes welled up. And those who do remember? They probably feel compassion. They've likely cried at work too. If they are a man and especially if they are older, they probably already forgot about it. I've talked to a lot of CEOs about this and most of them have had women cry in their office. When I ask them for more specifics, they don't even remember because they didn't think much about it. Research has shown that women tend to display greater empathetic responses than men, which may be why women are more likely to respond supportively when someone cries. With all the people I have interviewed and asked how they feel about seeing someone cry at work, not a single one told me they even really gave it much thought, unless that person crying was them. In the short term, crying might seem like a shot to the perception of your competence. In reality, crying has nothing to do with how well you can do your job. If you show up, deliver results, and act like this isn't your defining moment, others will too. Crying doesn't cancel out years of being a rock star. It's just a bad moment that everyone but you has forgotten about. Instead of obsessing about your embarrassment, get curious. Not about what others thought. About what the moment revealed to you. Use questions to guide yourself forward. What triggered that reaction in you? Was it frustration, feeling unheard, something unresolved? What does this moment say about what matters to you? What boundary was crossed? What story did you tell yourself about what happened? How can you communicate better next time if this situation repeats? What would you say to a friend if this happened to her? Did this moment teach you anything about what you want more or less of in your work life? If you can answer even a few of those honestly, you will grow from it and see that there will be less to cry about. You get up. You wash your face. You give yourself a moment in a bathroom stall like a pro. Then you send an email, check something off your list, or walk to get coffee. Action is your antidote. You're not erasing what happened. You're reminding yourself that you still run the show, even if it doesn't feel like it today. It will feel a little better tomorrow when you show up at work and see no one cares and eventually you might even laugh at it. If you're a man who cries at work, you're not weak either. Emotions don't disqualify you from leadership or respect. They show you're human. Acknowledge the moment, recover your footing, and continue with what matters. Most people respect vulnerability far more than a robotic performance. If you're a man witnessing someone else cry, especially a woman, resist the urge to fix it or make it awkward. Just hold the space. Ask if they're okay. Don't jump into advice. Sometimes saying 'I see you're upset and I'm here if you need anything' is enough. Presence is powerful. And remember, no one is keeping score of your most emotional day. What matters more is how you show up afterward. What If Crying At Work Happens Again? getty If it happens again, it just means you're human. If anything, it shows you care deeply and have come back to work for more. It didn't break you. If it happens again, you'll survive again. And someone else might see it and feel less alone because of you. Tell yourself this: 'That was rough, but it's over. I'm allowed to have feelings. I'm still competent, still respected, and still the person who gets things done.' Then do something small that feels like control, create something powerful at work, text a friend who's cried mid-presentation and lived to tell the tale. You didn't lose your strength. You just proved you care and that means a lot. Does Crying At Work Mean You Care Too Much? getty For many women, the only time they've experienced crying at work because they cared deeply and were frustrated. Or because they had to make a hard decision, like quitting a job they once loved. That kind of emotional response tells you that something matters to you, maybe more than you realized. For example, quitting is one of the hardest moments to avoid tears. That was true for many of us when we were younger. Now, for some, crying seems almost impossible. As you age, for this one situation, lack of hormones might actually help you. Or just time and perspective helps too. The truth is, the older you get, the less likely you are to cry at work. Not because you're tougher, but because fewer things rattle you. And while that might sound like growth if you don't cry anymore, it's also kind of sad because that was passion that made you cry. You felt something real. You showed that you're not hardened. Not yet. You still care, and that's a good thing. Ask yourself this: Do you want to be the cold fish who never cries? Or the person who has enough empathy to feel something and still move forward? If you're the latter, welcome to the club. You'll be just fine.
Telegraph
22-05-2025
- Lifestyle
- Telegraph
‘I was relieved when he left': Is it bad to celebrate when your children move out?
The empty nest used to be a rite of passage for parents waving their children off into adulthood. It was meant to usher in a new era of freedom, travel and fun for midlifers, before grandchildren reclaimed their time. But life isn't quite so linear now. We're often emotionally closer to our children than previous generations were, many families communicate constantly via social media, and Gen X mums and dads often hang out with their teenagers simply because it's fun. So when they really go for good, it can be incredibly painful. As A-levels roll on and university shimmers in the distance, the prospect of the empty nest looms over parents. No more late-night chats when they crash in from the pub, no more lifts, no more beloved, familiar presence in the next bedroom. The actress Sadie Frost admitted earlier this year that she 'fell apart' when her offspring all left. She told Good Housekeeping's podcast, 'You get up, you make breakfast, you do the school run… When all that stopped, I fell apart. This… was my engine. This was what was driving me.' I felt the same when my only son left home for university, way back in 2011. I now refer to that period as 'my nervous breakdown years' – because not only were we extremely close, but I had had him aged 22, and had barely known adult life without him at the centre of my decisions. His security and happiness were what drove my work ethic for 18 years, and without him there, as Barbie sang, I had no idea what I had been made for. My marriage fell apart, I moved to a new city in search of answers and it took me several years to find a path forward. 'Even though it was difficult when [the four children] all left home, it made me embrace being on my own,' said Frost. 'I had to face that fear.' According to the Office for National Statistics, the average age for children to leave home is now 25. The Institute for Fiscal Studies has also found that since 2006, the number of adults aged 25-34 living at home has risen from 13 per cent to 18 per cent. But when they do finally leave, for some mothers, the wrench can be agonising. Toni Koppel, 65, a videographer from London, has sons aged 28 and 30. She says, 'I was so upset when my eldest left home to go to university in York. I thought I'd never be able to survive. We took him there and I was so sad all the way home,' she recalls. 'It was very hard to let go. He'd never lived away from home before. He'd never cooked anything himself, he was very shy. I was so worried about him. Even though his brother was still at home, the place felt empty.' Gradually, however, Koppel began to see an upside. 'I moped around for two weeks, then I slowly realised there was less washing to do, the fridge stayed fuller, there was less housework.' In the holidays, she adds, 'The house became bustling again with two young men arguing, leaving clothes and dirty plates everywhere. After a few days, I would want him to go back to uni!' After graduating, both her sons left home permanently. 'I realise now that the short university terms were training me for these years – and now it was my turn to thrive again,' says Koppel. 'I started volunteering at the Five Bells Computer Club that I now run, I started SugarSweet Video Productions and joined a Nordic walking class.' But while Koppel experienced an incremental introduction to the empty nest, Kari Roberts, 61, a coach and author from Hampshire, waved her eldest son off unexpectedly when he was just 16. 'He'd always wanted to go to the US to play basketball and he got the chance for a year when he was 16,' she explains. 'It was organised in a rush, and he flew out just two days after getting his GCSE results.' Initially, she felt 'a mixture of sadness and excitement, as he was achieving his dream'. But while away, he decided to stay and complete the two-year high-school diploma. 'He came home for a holiday. Taking him to the airport the second time, I was overcome with such sadness, I broke down in tears,' recalls Roberts. 'I knew deep down he would carry on living in the US. He went to university there, and is now married with a family in San Diego.' The sense of loss lasted years. 'I still have a surge of emotions when I think about it, and his age at the time definitely added to it. I felt like a bit of me was missing, but I knew I couldn't stop him as this had been his dream for years.' They now visit regularly, and Roberts's other grown children live within a 15-minute drive. 'But it's still hard. We couldn't meet his second child for two years because of lockdowns. I still miss him.' While most of us want happy independence for our children, some clearly find the transition easier than others – and some of that depends on their personalities, says single mother and binge eating coach Harriet Morris, 53, who lives in Shrewsbury. 'Louis was a confident, happy-go-lucky child right from the toddler years,' she says. 'I saw his independence as a good thing. Since he left for uni, I do have times when I feel wistful and see how fast the years have flown by,' she admits. 'I miss chatting to him. But I am overwhelmingly delighted that he has started to explore the world beyond sleepy old Shropshire. I do think my being a single parent played a part in my relief when he left – I'd been on my own for a whole decade, bringing up two lively boys.' Morris understands, she says, that sadness is part of letting go, 'but growing up seems to me to be about leaving your parents in stages'. There's still a tendency, however, to imagine that dads will merrily wave the kids off, while the mother falls apart – but that's not necessarily the case, says Michael Taylor*, 52, a quantity surveyor from Liverpool. 'Our daughter Natalie* left two years ago to go to university in London,' he says. 'She's suffered from anxiety in the past and she found the transition really challenging. She phoned home a lot, and my wife, Karen*, would spend hours reassuring her. We both missed her massively, partly because we knew she wasn't having a good time,' he explains. 'I tried to be strong for her and Karen, who was worrying about her constantly, but my own sadness felt like I was dragging a lead weight around,' Taylor adds. 'I felt I hadn't done a good enough job as her dad, that she wasn't ready for independence. Thankfully, by the Easter term, she'd met some like-minded girls and started to find her niche.'' But, he admits, 'It was a really tough time. I don't think Karen knows quite how hard I found it too, but as a dad, you feel you have to support everyone else. I'm just so glad she's found her path now.' Empty nesting, as Sadie Frost has discovered, can be a curious mix of freedom and fear, relief and regret. 'Missing your child, but knowing they're happy and independent, is a good problem to have, I think,' says Harriet Morris. All these years later, I can confirm that she's entirely correct.
Yahoo
09-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
15 Modern Dating Trends That Set The Stage For Relationship Failure
In the age of swipes, likes, and emojis, modern dating can often feel like navigating a labyrinth of possibilities and pitfalls. These days, the quest for love can be as much about managing apps as it is about managing emotions. But while technology has given us new ways to connect, it has also bred a host of peculiar habits that might just be setting us up for failure. From the relentless pursuit of the next best thing to the illusion of perfection, let's delve into 15 modern dating trends that might be more trick than treat. Just when you thought ghosting was bad enough, here comes zombie-ing—when someone who previously ghosted you rises from the dead and slides back into your life. This trend takes emotional whiplash to a new level. Often appearing out of the blue with a "hey, stranger" text, the zombie seeks to reanimate the relationship with little regard for the emotional confusion they've already caused. It's a tantalizing trap that can keep people stuck in a cycle of uncertainty. While the zombie might be coming back out of boredom or curiosity, the person on the receiving end is left questioning the sincerity of this return. Relationships, after all, aren't a game of peekaboo. The inconsistency can erode trust and leave both parties in a murky limbo of half-commitments. With each resurrection, the boundaries of a healthy connection blur, making it harder to establish genuine emotional security. Ghosting might just be the scariest thing to happen to dating since the invention of unsolicited advice. It's the modern-day equivalent of the Irish goodbye, leaving someone hanging with no explanation and no closure. According to a study published in Science Direct, ghosting is a trend that affects not just the immediate victims but also spreads distrust in the dating ecosystem. This silent disappearing act can leave a string of broken connections and trust issues in its wake. For the ghoster, it might seem like an easy out, sparing themselves from awkward conversations. But for the one ghosted, it's a jarring end to what might have felt like a promising connection. This lack of accountability fosters an environment where emotional maturity takes a backseat, and genuine communication becomes an endangered species. Left unchecked, it paints a picture of disposable relationships, where people are treated like apps—easily deleted and forgotten. Breadcrumbing is the art of luring someone in with just enough attention to keep them on the hook, without any real intent of moving forward. It's basically the digital equivalent of Hansel and Gretel's trail of crumbs, except there's no happy ending here. This behavior can be psychologically damaging as it often leaves individuals feeling unvalued and manipulated. The breadcrumber, often seeking an ego boost, keeps their options open while the breadcrumbed clings to the hope of something more. For the one dropping the crumbs, it's often about keeping someone in orbit for validation or when all else fails. But for those following the crumbs, it's a path leading to nowhere—a journey of false hopes and unmet expectations. This leads to an emotional investment in a relationship that is, essentially, running on empty. As both parties dance around commitment, the risk of ending up in a perpetual loop of 'almost' becomes inevitable. Cushioning is all about having a backup—maintaining a roster of potential partners just in case things go south with the current one. It's a strategy that screams insecurity, wrapped in the guise of being proactive. A Bustle article notes that cushioning can create an emotional buffer zone, preventing real intimacy from forming with anyone. By having one foot out the door, individuals practicing cushioning are never truly present in their relationships. The ones being cushioned might not even be aware they're part of a safety net rather than a priority. This leaves them stuck in a web of half-truths and potential heartache. For the cushioner, it seems like a safety plan, but in reality, it's a surefire way to never fully commit or experience real emotional depth. So, while it might prevent immediate heartbreak, cushioning ultimately leads to shallow connections that rarely stand the test of time. Love bombing is a whirlwind of affection, gifts, and attention that can make anyone's head spin. It's intoxicating at first, like being caught in a romantic hurricane. This overwhelming behavior often masks control issues and can quickly turn toxic. The love bomber aims to create a dependency, drawing their partner in with an intensity that's hard to resist. Once the initial rush fades, what's left is often a power imbalance, where the bomber pulls back, leaving their partner scrambling to regain the lost affection. This rollercoaster ride of emotions can cause more harm than good, fostering insecurity and co-dependence. The initial charm wears off, revealing cracks that are hard to mend. Love bombing might start with fireworks, but it often ends in emotional fallout. Benching is akin to keeping someone on the sidelines, just in case you might want to play the game with them later. It's the art of stringing someone along with sporadic attention while never fully committing according to Psychology Today. This practice creates a frustrating standstill, where one person is left in a constant state of waiting. For the bencher, it's about having a fallback plan, a just-in-case scenario that requires minimal effort. For the benched, however, it's a never-ending cycle of anticipation and letdown. This pattern discourages healthy relationship growth, keeping things in a perpetual state of limbo. The ambiguity of benching can lead to confusion and emotional fatigue, as the benched person struggles to understand their true standing. The temporary satisfaction of being noticed can't compensate for the long-term impact of feeling like a second choice. Haunting occurs when someone from your past starts interacting with your social media content after going silent. It's like ghosting's eerie cousin, making their presence known without direct communication. This kind of digital lurking can leave emotional scars, reopening old wounds and creating unnecessary emotional baggage. While the haunter might be seeking validation or simply reminiscing, the haunted is left with a mix of curiosity and frustration. This ambiguous engagement can reignite unresolved feelings, disrupting any progress made in moving on. It blurs the lines of closure, leaving the haunted in a state of confusion. For the haunter, it might feel like a harmless gesture, but it can lead to emotional distress for the other party. Haunting keeps the door to past relationships ajar, preventing individuals from fully stepping into new beginnings. Orbiting is the act of staying in someone's digital sphere without direct interaction, akin to being a satellite in their life. It's a subtle way of maintaining a presence, liking photos or watching stories without any real conversation. This behavior can create an illusion of closeness while keeping a safe emotional distance. As Forbes explains, the orbiter manages to stay relevant in the person's life, but purely on a superficial level. For the orbited, it can be a confusing and disconcerting experience. It's the digital age's version of mixed signals, leaving the orbited person wondering about the orbiter's true intentions. This form of indirect engagement prevents both parties from moving forward, stuck in a cycle of what-ifs and maybes. Orbiting might feel like a passive form of connection, but it often traps individuals in a liminal space of unfulfilled potential. Phubbing, the act of snubbing someone in favor of your phone, has become a common relationship disruptor. It's a subtle yet impactful way of signaling disinterest, even if unintentional. The constant presence of a phone can create a barrier to meaningful interaction, reducing the quality of conversations and connection. For the phubbed, it can feel like competing for attention with a digital device, leading to feelings of neglect. This habit fosters an environment where genuine communication is replaced by digital distractions. The phubber may not realize the extent of their behavior's impact, but over time, it can deteriorate relationship satisfaction. Acknowledging the presence of the person in front of you, rather than the screen, is crucial to maintaining a healthy dynamic. Phubbing may seem trivial, but its consequences can slowly chip away at the foundation of any relationship. Gaslighting involves manipulating someone into questioning their own reality and perceptions. It's a deceitful tactic that can erode trust, leaving the victim feeling isolated and confused. In the dating world, this behavior can manifest subtly, with one partner consistently undermining the other's feelings and experiences. The gaslighter gains control by making the other person doubt themselves, often leading to a toxic power dynamic. For the victim, it can be a disorienting experience, causing them to second-guess their emotions and judgments. This manipulation not only damages the current relationship but can have long-lasting effects on future ones as well. Trust, once broken, becomes hard to rebuild, creating a cycle of insecurity and doubt. Gaslighting might provide temporary control for the gaslighter, but it ultimately destroys the foundation of any relationship. Slow fading is the art of gradually reducing communication and interaction until the relationship fizzles out. It's a method of ending things without having to confront the reality of a breakup. For the slow fader, it feels like a way to avoid awkward conversations, but for the one being faded, it's a confusing and often hurtful experience. This passive approach leaves the faded person with questions and uncertainty, prolonging their emotional distress. The lack of closure can be more damaging than a straightforward breakup, as it offers no clear end or explanation. It's a drawn-out process that fosters resentment and unresolved feelings. For both parties, it prevents the possibility of growth and moving on in a healthy manner. Slow fading might seem like a gentle way to exit, but it often leaves behind a trail of emotional wreckage. The 'grass is greener' syndrome is the perpetual feeling that there's someone better out there, preventing individuals from fully committing to the present relationship. This mindset fosters a constant state of comparison, where the current partner is always measured against imaginary alternatives. For the one with this syndrome, it can lead to dissatisfaction and restlessness, never allowing them to truly appreciate what they have. For the partner, it can create a sense of inadequacy, feeling like they can never measure up to these hypothetical standards. This mentality prevents the formation of deep, meaningful connections, as one eye is always on the horizon. The endless pursuit of the next best thing can lead to a string of shallow relationships, none of which are fulfilling. The 'grass is greener' syndrome might promise endless possibilities, but it often delivers emptiness and regret. Future faking is the practice of promising a future together without any real intent of following through. It's a calculated move to create an illusion of commitment, often used to keep someone invested in the relationship. For the future faker, it creates a temporary bond, but for the victim, it builds false hopes and expectations. This deceit can be emotionally devastating, as the promised future never materializes. The victim is left grappling with unmet expectations and shattered dreams, questioning their own judgment. The future faker manipulates emotions, crafting a narrative that never comes to fruition. This behavior not only damages trust but also hinders the victim's ability to believe in future relationships. Future faking might offer a fleeting sense of security, but it ultimately leads to disillusionment and heartbreak. Digital stalking involves obsessively monitoring someone's online presence, often without their knowledge. It's a behavior that blurs the line between curiosity and intrusion, creating an unhealthy level of surveillance. For the stalker, it might feel like staying connected, but for the one being stalked, it's an invasion of privacy. This constant monitoring can lead to paranoia and anxiety, disrupting the natural flow of a relationship. The stalker might justify their actions as concern or interest, but it often stems from insecurity and control issues. For the victim, the discovery of being watched can feel like a breach of trust, leading to discomfort and distrust. Digital stalking damages the foundation of any relationship, where transparency and respect should prevail. It might start with innocent curiosity, but it often escalates into a boundary-violating behavior. Catfishing involves creating a false identity to engage in a relationship, often online. It's a deceptive practice that can lead to profound emotional and psychological damage. For the catfisher, it might stem from insecurity or the thrill of living a false life, but for the victim, it's a betrayal of trust. This deception can unravel the victim's sense of reality, leaving them questioning the authenticity of their emotions and experiences. The victim, upon discovering the truth, is left with a shattered sense of self and a wariness of future online interactions. The catfisher's web of lies creates a facade that, once dismantled, reveals the hollowness of the connection. It's a manipulation that exploits vulnerability, causing lasting harm to those who believed in the fabricated persona. Catfishing might provide a temporary escape for the deceiver, but it leaves behind a trail of broken hearts and shattered trust.
