Love scams have always existed, but the internet has made it easier. Photo: Freepik
Behind every “love story” that begins with an online text or a friendly message, there is the likelihood of a darker tale of emotional manipulation, deceit and heartbreak.
And in Malaysia, those stories are costing millions of ringgit. Some 770 love scam cases were reported in the country for 2024, resulting in total losses of RM45.9mil. In 2023, there were slightly fewer cases – 935 – but the total losses were higher.
Women made up the majority of the victims (75.6%), and for the first time last year, the most affected age group was those 60 and above, overtaking the 41–50 age group the year before.
Since 2018, Malaysians have collectively lost over RM382mil to more than 7,500 romance scam cases, according to police data and media reports.
Experts say that while awareness has grown, syndicates are becoming more sophisticated, deceiving victims into parting with larger sums of money.
And Facebook and WhatsApp, widely used for communication, remain scammers’ favourite hunting grounds.
Love scams cut deep because the emotions involved are genuine, even when the relationship isn't. Photo: Freepik
When Anna, a 40-something single mother, met a man online who seemed kind, attentive and grounded, she wasn’t looking for love.
It began innocently – a message from a stranger asking if she was the Anna who worked for a particular multinational company he had once dealt with. She wasn’t, but the conversation continued.
There were no red flags, no sob stories, no request for money, no inappropriate photos.
Instead, there were shared moments of daily life: him cleaning out his refrigerator, visiting his parents, sending photos of his morning commute.
“It felt so real,” Anna, a lawyer, recalls. “The way he talked, it was like we were living parallel lives in different countries.”
He told her he worked for a bank in China and dabbled in cryptocurrency. One day, he suggested she try it too.
“He promised he’d be with me every step of the way,” she says. Her first small investment of US$1,000 (RM4,197) yielded a modest US$79 (RM331) profit and she could withdraw it. That proof of success was all it took for trust to deepen.
Later, he encouraged her to invest more, even helping her secure a loan of US$30,000 (RM125,925) through what appeared to be the same trading platform. When she tried to withdraw her funds, she was told she had to repay the “capital” first. She managed to pay about US$15,000 (RM62,962) before the man vanished.
“I thought I was careful,” Anna says quietly. “He never asked for money for himself. I believed he was real. When I realised I’d been scammed, it broke something inside me.”
Today, Anna is undergoing counselling and art therapy to manage her depression and loss.
“It wasn’t just about the money,” she says. “It was about being made to believe that someone cared.”
A love scam, also known as a romance scam, is a form of fraud where perpetrators create fake online identities to build emotional relationships and manipulate victims into parting with money.
In Malaysia, cases have been rising sharply. According to police data reported in the media, most victims are women – but men are increasingly falling prey too.
Love is beautiful, but it should also be wise, says Assoc. Prof Anasuya. Photo: Dr Anasuya Jegathevi Jegathesan
Counsellor Dr Anasuya Jegathevi Jegathesan says falling prey to a love scam isn’t about intelligence or education.
“It doesn’t matter how educated you are. If you allow your feelings to dictate your actions and if you trust without verifying, you can easily fall victim,” she explains.
Anasuya stresses that loneliness and emotional vulnerability are at the heart of most cases.
“It doesn’t matter how old you are, young or old; in love you want to believe the best in someone. Scammers are smart enough to capitalise on people’s vulnerabilities. They make the relationship seem perfect. But real relationships aren’t perfect. That’s the red flag.”
Dr Adam, a 38-year-old teacher at a private school in Kuala Lumpur, didn’t think he’d ever fall for a scam. Rational, analytical and cautious, he turned to online dating hoping to meet someone genuine.
In 2023, he matched with “Sofia”, an “elegant Singaporean interior designer”. Over two months, they exchanged messages, photos and voice notes.
“She made me feel seen,” Adam admits. “I thought we had a real connection.”
But soon, “Sofia” introduced an “eco-blockchain” investment opportunity. It seemed legitimate – the platform was sleek, complete with live charts and withdrawal options. When Adam earned a small profit, she encouraged him to invest more.
“I told myself I was too smart to get scammed,” he says. “But love and logic don’t mix.”
He lost RM78,000 in total. When he tried to withdraw his “profits”, the website demanded a “tax payment”. Days later, both the platform and “Sofia” disappeared.
Adam reported the case to the Commercial Crime Investigation Department (CCID).
Investigators later told him that “Sofia” was likely part of a foreign syndicate using stolen photos of a real Instagram user.
He now attends a local NGO support group for scam victims.
“It wasn’t stupidity,” he says. “It was connection, or the illusion of it.”
Scammers are emotional manipulators who know what to say, when to say it and how to keep victims hooked. Photo: Freepik
Anasuya explains that scammers are master psychologists. They exploit human emotions, especially loneliness, grief or the desire for companionship.
“Scammers know what buttons to push and what to say,” she says. “They give you what you think you need – attention, affection, a sense of belonging – while taking away something else: your money.”
She adds that emotional grooming can happen gradually and subtly.
“When you feel someone understands you, it becomes easy to overlook inconsistencies or red flags.”
Contrary to popular belief, men and women are equally vulnerable, but in different ways.
“With female victims, the scam is often short-term, the scammers go in for a fast buck. With male victims, the scams tend to be longer, through building trust over months. Some scammers even target widowed or divorced men for their savings or inheritance,” says Anasuya.
And because of pride or shame, men are less likely to report being scammed, hence the numbers appear lower.
“They don’t want to admit they’ve been fooled.”
What makes love scams especially devastating is that the emotions experienced are real – even if the relationship was not.
“When someone falls in love with a scammer, the brain releases the same chemicals as with any genuine romantic attachment,” Anasuya explains.
“To the victim, the relationship is real. Their love and care are genuine. The betrayal, therefore, is deeply traumatic.”
Victims often experience symptoms similar to post-traumatic stress: anxiety, depression, loss of trust and intense shame.
“The shame is the scammer’s best protection,” she notes. “Victims don’t want to admit they were wrong, or feel like fools. They hide it, and that’s what allows scammers to keep operating.”
Recovery, she says, takes time and tailored therapy.
“There’s no one-size-fits-all recovery model. Every person’s pain and loss are unique. Counselling can help rebuild self-esteem and restore a sense of trust, but it also depends on the support they have and their past experiences.”
Scammers often prey on the lonely, widowed or recently divorced. Photo: Freepik
The internet has made the “fishing pool” for scammers exponentially larger.
“They can send hundreds of messages to people online, changing only names and a few details,” Anasuya says. “For the victim, it feels personal. But for the scammer, it’s just a numbers game.”
And with the rise of AI-generated images and videos, it’s getting harder to tell what’s real.
“You might think you’re talking to a real person on video, but it could be AI,” she warns. “If you’ve never met them in real life, you really can’t be sure.”
She advises: “Love, but verify. Trust, but verify.”
Both Anna and Adam say what hurts most isn’t just financial loss, but emotional betrayal.
“I still struggle to trust people,” says Adam. “But therapy has helped me realise that my desire to connect isn’t a weakness. It just needs boundaries.”
Anna agrees. “I don’t want to close myself off from love,” she says. “But now, I take things slowly. If someone really cares, they’ll understand.”
Assoc. Prof Anasuya urges family and friends of victims to be supportive, not judgemental.
“Don’t shame them. They’ve already been hurt enough. Be there for them. Check in often, especially with those who are lonely, widowed or recently divorced. Scammers thrive when people feel isolated.”
Love scams, she says, are as old as time, but the methods have changed and are now more sophisticated.
“It’s one of the oldest con games in the world. But the internet has made it easier.”
“Love is beautiful,” says Anasuya. “But it should also be wise. If someone truly loves you, they won’t pressure you for money or secrecy. The best protection is self-awareness and your own community.”
Because sometimes, the most dangerous lies are not the ones told to us, but the ones we tell ourselves in the name of love, she concludes.
