The Unseen Wall: Why New Scam Victims Struggle to Accept Help

For a person reeling from the aftermath of a relationship scam, the path to recovery is often blocked by an unseen wall, a complex psychological barrier that can make accepting help feel impossible. The case of a victim who is offered multiple lifelines but fails to grasp them is not an isolated incident of ingratitude but a profound insight into the challenges all new victims face. The very nature of betrayal trauma creates a state of mind that is uniquely resistant to the very structures designed to foster healing.

The first and most formidable challenge is the profound violation of trust. A scam does not just steal money; it assassinates the victim’s ability to trust their own judgment and the intentions of others. When a support organization extends a hand, the victim’s traumatized brain does not necessarily see a helper. It sees another potential threat, another entity that might not be what it claims to be. This deep-seated suspicion can manifest as hostility or paranoia, which are not personal failings but symptoms of the trauma itself. The victim is not being difficult; they are operating from a place of profound hurt where trust has become a dangerous liability.

Secondly, the victim is often trapped in a state of cognitive dissonance and overwhelming shame. They are caught between the intense emotional reality of the love they felt and the crushing intellectual knowledge that it was all a lie. This internal conflict is exhausting and can lead to a state of paralysis. Engaging with a support group requires confronting this painful reality head-on, sharing the story, and admitting vulnerability. For many, this is too daunting. The shame of having been deceived can be so powerful that it feels safer to disengage entirely than to risk judgment or to face the full magnitude of their own vulnerabilities or developing emotional dysfunction. Holding back and not participating becomes a defense mechanism, a way to avoid the raw exposure that true healing demands.

Also, the anger that victims feel is often misdirected. The scammer is gone, an untouchable ghost, so the victim’s rage seeks a tangible target. The support organization, in its role as a guide and authority figure, can easily become that target. Every suggestion, every boundary, can be perceived as a criticism or an invalidation of their pain. This hostility is a cry from a place of immense powerlessness. The victim feels betrayed by the scammer and now feels let down or misunderstood by the very people who are supposed to help. This creates a tragic cycle where the organization’s attempts to guide are met with resistance, reinforcing the victim’s belief that no one can truly help them. Once someone believes this, they are right.

Ultimately, organizations, groups, and advocates must recognize that for a victim to be ready for help, they must first be ready to face the truth. This readiness cannot be forced or scheduled. It is a delicate internal shift that happens on its own timeline, but for some, it may never happen. The challenge for support providers is to hold a space of compassion without enabling destructive behavior, to communicate boundaries without withdrawing care entirely. It is a delicate balance between acknowledging the victim’s pain and gently insisting on their responsibility in the healing process. The unseen wall is real, but it is not impenetrable. It can only be dismantled from the inside when the victim is finally ready to put down their anger and their shame, and take the first, terrifying step toward trusting again, starting with themselves.

Prof. Tim McGuinness, Ph.D.
November 2025