On being scammed

 — and certainly not by a person!

Like most adults, I’ve had my share of phishing scares, suspect emails and texts. I coped by becoming more diligent — checking the email addresses of messages that seemed off, never giving my personal information, ignoring or reporting texts that asked for payment on a debt I didn’t owe. 

However, until now, I had never encountered such a sophisticated scam by a real person impersonating an authority figure.

It started with a phone call from a man identifying himself as part of my bank’s fraud department. They had detected some suspicious activity on my account and wanted my help to identify the perpetrator. I asked for the caller’s name, which he reported was “Mark Wents.” Mark gave me my case number and indicated the problem was online only; as a result, the bank would freeze my account for 24 to 48 hours while they investigated. He said it was important I not access my online account during this time.

This stay-out admonition seemed reasonable — that somehow dipping into it could trigger more scam activity. Two days later, it became clear that “Mark” was the actual scammer. 

That’s when the bank sent me an ominous email: “An external transfer was processed successfully.” What external transfer? I didn’t authorize one — let alone one for $3,000! I called the bank’s fraud department — the real one — and learned the person who called me was not a bank employee and the case number didn’t exist. I learned the bank would never call me out of the blue about a possible scam; they would always send me a message first. 

I’d been duped. What good was this big-ass diploma hanging on my office wall if I couldn’t even detect a scammer? A highly contagious case of the stupids took over.

The shame game began to subside as I learned more about scammers’ complex psychological tactics to “socially engineer” their victims into handing over personal data or money. According to Alex Melkumian, founder of the Financial Psychology Center, they force the person to act quickly and instinctively rather than pause and think; in my case, I felt I had to do as he said or I would lose more money. The scammer often impersonates someone in a trusted position whom we want to believe; “Mark” was great at  mimicking the lingo and manner of a bank employee. Perhaps most importantly, the immediacy and fear they provoke put victims into a heightened emotional state, causing our emotional blood pressure to soar. I was definitely rattled.

I spent most of the next two days unraveling the mess — changing accounts, getting a new debit card, talking with fraud experts. Luckily, bank employees were helpful and empathetic, which began to quiet my self-judgment. They reminded me that I’ve had a teachable moment, and I’ve learned from it. Two fraud employees told me they, too, had been scammed. OK, I thought: If it can happen to people who specialize in detecting and unmasking fraud, it can happen to anyone. Maybe I wasn’t so dull-witted after all.

They advised me to pay attention to my instincts. If I have any doubt whatsoever of a caller’s authenticity, I should put the phone down and call the bank before giving out any information. I tested that advice almost immediately when a call came in from someone identifying herself as part of my credit card company's fraud department. She alerted me of another possible scam — several credit card purchases I did not authorize. I cut the call short and called the bank to verify that the credit card fraud representative was legit. She was. 

One fraud expert reminded me there are at least 1,000 scams going on at any time, and more pop up every day. “It’s impossible for anyone to keep up with,” he said.

Throughout these anxious days, my daughter was her usual fountain of sympathy and help. Together, we strategized how to handle a scam differently if it happened again. Her voice held no tincture of “Wow, Mom, you’re really getting old,” or “How could you let that happen?” She, too, had been scammed. Guilt trips and their resulting shame were not on her agenda, nor were they present in the voices of any of the few friends I told about the scams.

Having a great support system is the key to moving from “How could I have let this happen?” to “I will learn from this unfortunate situation.” The bank employees and my daughter became that for me. 

Storyteller and researcher Brené Brown has studied shame and empathy. Her wisdom became my antidote to feeling vulnerable and dumb:

“If we share our story with someone who responds with empathy 

  and understanding, shame cannot survive.”

Amen to that.

Have you been scammed? How did you deal with feeling guilty or embarrassed about it?