When Shame is the Weapon: A Warning From One Of Our Own

There is a cruel kind of crime that depends on silence.

It begins with trust.

A message online.
A conversation that feels genuine.
A connection that seems to fill a lonely space.

Then, suddenly, the threat arrives.

This week Matthew Rhodes, known to so many in Tasmanian football through Tassie Football Central, shared publicly that he had been the victim of sextortion and blackmail.

When he rang me to tell me what had happened, I tried to lighten the moment with humour. I laughed and said that if they wanted to put the body of a young person on my old face, well, that was hardly the worst thing in the world.

Humour can sometimes be how we hold difficult things at bay.

But beneath that moment was something deeply unsettling.

Because this is not funny at all.

This is not really a football story, and yet it is.

Because football communities are made of people, and Matthew is one of ours.

Over the years, through Tassie Football Central, we have come to know him in that familiar modern way that communities know the people who show up every day. We know his passion for Tasmanian football. We know his enthusiasm. We know the way he writes, his jumbled spelling and tangled words, imperfect and unpolished, but unmistakably his. They are our jumbled spelling and words now, part of the voice many in this community recognise instantly.

And we also know something else about Matthew.

He has spoken openly on his page about his mental health struggles. He has written honestly about loneliness, about difficult days, about the parts of life many people hide. That openness is brave, but in the wrong hands it can also make someone visible to predators.

Scammers look for vulnerability.

They scan profiles, posts and public comments for clues about who may be lonely, isolated, grieving or emotionally exposed. What many of us read as honesty and courage, they read as opportunity.

That is part of what makes this so cruel.

What is sextortion?

Sextortion is a form of online blackmail.

Typically it begins when someone creates a fake identity online and forms a connection with a victim. That connection may be flirtatious, emotional or simply friendly. Over time, trust is built. The scammer then persuades the victim to share private images, or creates fake manipulated images, and uses them as leverage.

The demand is simple and brutal: pay money, or the images will be sent to family, friends, employers or published publicly.

Sometimes there are no real images at all. Increasingly scammers use edited or AI-generated material simply to create fear.

The threat is the weapon.
The shame is the currency.

Why these scams work

These crimes are not successful because victims are foolish.

They work because they are carefully designed to exploit human vulnerability.

Loneliness.
Isolation.
Grief.
A desire for companionship.

These are not weaknesses. They are ordinary parts of being human.

Matthew himself wrote movingly about believing he had found someone who cared. That is painful to read because it is so recognisable. Many people know what it is to long for connection.

That longing is what predators exploit.

What to look out for

There are warning signs people should know:

• Someone online becomes emotionally intense very quickly

• They push conversations onto private messaging apps

• They ask for intimate photos or videos early

• They create urgency, secrecy or emotional pressure

• They threaten immediate exposure unless money is paid

If threats begin, experts are clear: do not pay.

Paying rarely ends the blackmail. It often encourages more demands.

If this happens to you

If you are targeted:

• Stop responding immediately

• Keep screenshots and evidence

• Do not send money

• Report it to police and the eSafety Commissioner

• Tell someone you trust

• Seek emotional support

The scam thrives in silence.
Speaking breaks its power.

Matthew’s courage in going public

What Matthew has done by speaking publicly is brave.

Scammers rely on embarrassment to keep victims quiet. Public honesty removes that leverage. It says clearly: I will not carry your shame for you.

And that is the truth at the centre of this.

The shame belongs entirely to the criminals.

Not to the people they deceive.
Not to the people they manipulate.
Not to the people who trusted.

Matthew is not defined by what happened to him.

He is a victim of a calculated crime, and by sharing his experience he may help protect others from the same trap.

That matters.

Because if there is one lesson here, it is this:

This can happen to anyone.