I Got Scammed and I Slightly Blame My AuDHD

I fell victim to a phishing scam and ended the day roughly £400 poorer than when I woke up. When the penny dropped and I realised I'd compromised my personal security, and the money wasn't coming back, I was devastated, but not for the reason you might think.

I was diagnosed with autism late in life, aged 31, so until I was finally blessed with the sweet nectar of psychiatric validation, I was just weird. Weird isn't necessarily bad, but when growing up, there will always be a few children, usually boys who excel at P.E., taking issue with anyone who is different and happens to be passionate about something that isn't shaped like a ball. When confronted with any variation of the norm, these children will switch into a mode they are alarmingly comfortable with for being under the age of 10: bullying.

There are many flavours of autism, but one trait that appears to inhabit the entire spectrum is social "naivety" (for lack of a better term). Some of the symptoms of this particular trait, all of which will become relevant, include:

• Taking language very literally
• Taking people at face value for the words they are saying
• Asserting one's logical position
• Seeking validation or verification to avoid further misunderstanding

When I was around 11, my family went to a BBQ with friends, which led to a group of children playing together, running around the neighbourhood. Since I was at the peak of my Pokémon and general video game obsession phase (something the others were derisively aware of), one boy tried to convince me his Casio watch had a game on it and theatrically pretended to have a lot of fun tapping his wrist. Being a Nintendo aficionado with grounds for scepticism, I asked to see the evidence. Apparently, the game, on this tiny screen, only showed when he was looking at it, so I couldn't bear witness.

I voiced my scepticism and was met with "are you calling me a liar". Other children began watching the exchange. I explained my position with the following sentiment but likely less elegance: it seemed unlikely at best that he had a world-class game on his watch, based on the evidence and unwillingness to show it. I remember what happened next vividly, as it is a tactic many use to bully neurodivergent people who haven't developed their social skills fully yet: "do you think I'm a liar?"

This subtle shift is significant because it does two things:

1. It associates the potential lie with the person, not the claim, making it a character assessment rather than logic
2. It challenges the association by invoking a pre-existing personal relationship (and I had known the boy a long time)

I did not think the boy was a liar in general, so I answered "no". "So, would I be lying about the watch?" he asked. I said, "I didn't know," to the irritation of the group, now watching me succumb to peer pressure. This was repeated a couple of times. I tried to leave the circle but was pushed back in. Eventually, as all other options had been removed from me, and I didn't think a group would turn on me like this for no reason, I conceded that he must have the game on his watch that he said. I was laughed at for the rest of the evening, and since none of the adults understood why, none gave me much sympathy, which is probably why this is a core memory now.

I only ever saw the group twice more after that event. Still, every time I did, people would show me their watches and make mocking comments about the technological marvels their watches could do, accompanied by "waaaaehhhhhgggggh" style sounds, as British youths are wont to do, because I was naïve enough to believe that organically. Ironically, the same boy ended up being featured in a BBC documentary for falling victim to a cult; you'd think I was happy about the karma, but realistically, it just makes me sad. No one deserves to be taken advantage of.

So yes, I was scammed. When I realised, it wasn't the loss of money or privacy violation that brought tears to my eyes — it was the immediate return to that moment, where I thought I had done things right and played by the rules, only to become the loser. I know that this is how many neurodivergent people can feel regularly, and I want to explain what happened to me so others might avoid the same, and the world be a little better.

I love to sing, specifically screaming. One of my favourite pastimes is making sounds with my mouth that would make a dying water buffalo blush. There's just something about the way the air travels through my throat to make that coarse gurgle that takes me into a state of serenity like nothing else. I told you I was autistic: we either like metal music or we collect stamps; there isn't much in between. I loved doing this so much I thought I'd make a Fiverr account to sell my services, to get me doing it more.

Within a day, I received multiple messages requesting details and confirming orders. One specifically confirmed an order but didn't provide the necessary music attachment files. In a message, they told me to check the Fiverr app, which is an implicit way of saying "Check your phone," so I did. I picked up my phone, and a notification from Gmail popped up. Anyone with ADHD knows that it's impossible to resist, so I pressed it and saw that I had received an email identical to Fiverr's order confirmation email, with a button telling me to press to confirm.

This is where things went wrong: the email was not from Fiverr, and Gmail decided not to show the sender's actual email address. So distracted by my ADHD and autism, which blur my social judgment, I pressed the button and was taken to a page that mirrored Fiverr, with my information displayed there, including fully working links. Even the Chrome Google Analytics tag assistant verified the site (usually, this voiding is a good warning sign). I work as a software engineer, and one thing I do whenever I'm entering card details is verify domain security policies. Fiverr allows its Cloudinary bucket/CDN to be used by any site, even one hosted erroneously in Malaysia.

I am not proud to admit this, but I entered my card details not once, not twice, but three times. My banks were wiser than I was, as the first two blocked my transactions, which should have been a warning. However, I'm sure you've all experienced your bank blocking you at the most inconvenient time, such as when buying groceries. Now, when autistic people encounter an irritation they deem unjust, they can become incredibly stubborn and persistent, so I proceeded to the third card with the "helpful" encouragement of the scammers.

I was initially very excited because I thought this was unlocking a payment for a service I'd love to provide: imitating dying into a condenser microphone. However, as the process became more convoluted and the amounts were inconsistent with the "support chat", I realised what was happening and pulled back as quickly as I could.

For neurodivergent individuals, we often have a complicated relationship with authority and people who hold associated positions: teachers, law enforcement, bosses. They are supposed to assume responsibility for outcomes and the environment, ensuring fairness and following established processes. Someone with a developmental condition like autism or ADHD is very likely to learn early on that authority and how it is applied rarely, if ever, align, which can cause problems with the development of the individual.

The situations that make me the most upset and ashamed in my life are those when I feel like I've followed the rules of the situation appropriately, only for the result to yield a detrimental outcome, which is compounded when the blame is placed on me.

When the penny dropped and I realised what was happening, my first thought was not "I've lost the money" — it was "I need to act now and report to the appropriate authorities". I first went to the UK cybercrime division, but as you can expect, my report remains unacknowledged. I also visited the bank that had permitted the transfers, and despite raising disputes with the necessary evidence, they refused to act, eventually closing the support chat against my wishes.

At the beginning of this post, I referred to a situation where I was coerced into a social interaction I was not comfortable with; the scammer did the same. When I encountered the harmful outcome, in both circumstances, I reached out to the authority figures, not just for justice but also for guidance, and was rebuffed or ignored. This evokes a feeling in me so visceral that it resembles heartbreak. While I love who and what I am, I do blame my neurodivergence for getting me into the mess and for how I feel afterwards; it isn't fair, but it's feelings like that which drove me to found this company.

The best way we can help prevent these things in future is by helping each other, so has anything like this ever happened to you? And if it has, what advice would you give yourself if you had a time machine? Feel free to send us a message with your stories. No judgement. I have very little embarrassment, as future stories will show.