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‘His Facebook was a shrine to my face’: the day I caught my catfish
I stumbled on a profile with my picture as the photo. What was this man doing with my identity? I set out to track him down …
I didn’t want to use a name that might belong to a real person, but the pseudonyms I came up with sounded ridiculous, like badly written 1950s detectives: would you accept a friend request from Eric Pistachio or Dirk Avalanche? I emailed the Metropolitan police, who advised me to report what had happened, but they told me they weren’t sure where it would sit as a criminal case because the impostor seemingly lived in Poland. I find myself occasionally searching his name and keeping tabs on his page, making sure those images are still empty and not filled in with updated photos of my face, or that of someone else completely oblivious to his deception.
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