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" \n It started as an escape from my life.  I was a junior in high school in Saucier, Mississippi, a tiny, two-stoplight town. School was a nightmare. Kids called me a freak, the weird girl, the fat girl. So one day, I decided to become someone else. I chose a MySpace photo of a teen girl in Ohio I had long admired\u2014a blue-eyed blonde with a rocker edge. She was petite, skinny, hot\u2014pretty much the opposite of me. I grabbed her photo and built a fake profile on MySpace. I called her Abby Johnson and said she lived in Georgia. This was three years ago. It wasn&amp;#039;t the first time I had posted a fake persona on MySpace. I had created one in middle school but didn&amp;#039;t keep that one up for long. With Abby, I felt more ambitious. On her profile, I posted funny quips and links to videos. I kept an eye on the girl whose face I had borrowed\u2014when she posted new photos, I reposted them. Reeling in a Romance Abby&amp;#039;s page became a getaway from my world, which hadn&amp;#039;t been easy to live in since I was 7\u2014the year my mom died of breast cancer. Before that, I lived a typical small-town family life. I have four siblings. My mom worked in insurance; my dad drove a truck. But when my mom died, everything grew dark. My dad got depressed, often taking his anger out on me (my siblings were older and got off easier). I felt completely alone. By eighth grade, I was secretly cutting myself with a razor blade. As I started senior year, I shifted Abby over to Facebook and gave her a new home in Mississippi. Being her was freeing\u2014I had no fear of judgment. (The only person I told about all this was a close cousin.) School continued to be awful. One day when I wore a neon top, a boy said, &amp;quot;You look like a big-ass Skittle!&amp;quot; Another time, a kid threw an apple at me, yelling, &amp;quot;You f**king freak!&amp;quot; Midway through the year, I left school to work on my GED while living with my dad. It was around this time that I heard from a guy named Jarrod Musselwhite. He was in his 20s and played in a band in Georgia. Jarrod reached out to me (well, &amp;quot;Abby&amp;quot;) on Facebook, telling me I was pretty, a common compliment. We zapped a few notes back and forth, and then I gave him a call, the first of many. We just clicked. He seemed warm and kind. He told me his life story\u2014he&amp;#039;d gotten his girlfriend pregnant at a young age and married her, divorcing a few years later. He said he considered himself to be a bit of an outcast, like me. I told him my story too, with the occasional twist\u2014for instance, I said I was from a happy family. I didn&amp;#039;t want him to feel bad for me. We messaged every day for weeks and began talking on the phone daily, sharing our troubles and triumphs. My lie loomed large\u2014I knew Jarrod thought he was talking to someone else, and I felt bad about it. Then one day, he asked to meet. It was a jarring reality check, but I ignored my panic and told him I had family obligations. I also couldn&amp;#039;t video-chat. He didn&amp;#039;t give up, and every request to meet rattled me. There were times I wanted to come clean, and I fantasized that if Jarrod truly loved me, he would get over my deception when I did tell him the truth. But deep down, I knew that wouldn&amp;#039;t be the case, so I kept making excuses. A couple of times, I thought about just disappearing, but I&amp;#039;d miss Jarrod too much. I think he had suspicions, but like me, he wanted to believe the fantasy. Together, we were in this warm bubble. Facing the Truth For the first time, I was falling in love. Jarrod told me he was too. His words gave me confidence, and I started taking more care with my appearance in real life\u2014losing weight, wearing cuter clothes. Sometimes we had intimate conversations about sexual turn-ons. (In truth, my only experience was a kiss at a spin-the-bottle party.) Months rolled by and I got my GED. I was living in limbo, working at McDonald&amp;#039;s. I escaped deeper into my romance. But it couldn&amp;#039;t last long. In the summer of 2012, more than a year after I&amp;#039;d first met Jarrod online, I got a call from a guy named Nev Schulman. My heart thumped out of my chest\u2014I knew I&amp;#039;d been caught. I had seen Nev&amp;#039;s documentary, Catfish, about how he&amp;#039;d fallen in love with a woman online, only to find she had posted a bogus profile. Nev said that he was doing an MTV series about online relationships and Jarrod had contacted him for help. Emotions raced through me\u2014shock, nervousness, and ultimately, relief. Nev said it was important to Jarrod that we meet, and if I really cared, I would do it. I knew if I didn&amp;#039;t take the plunge now, I never would. I was terrified. I&amp;#039;ll never forget the moment we met. The expression on Jarrod&amp;#039;s face was one of complete shock and disappointment. We shook hands awkwardly, and I told him I was sorry. I said I wasn&amp;#039;t a Barbie. I could see how upset he was, and I felt like the worst person on earth. Jarrod said, &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ve gotten to know you so much. But I have no idea who you are.&amp;quot; Later, he said he felt as if his girlfriend had died. It was one of the worst days of my life. I deleted the profile that night. Before Jarrod left town, I told him my story and that I hadn&amp;#039;t set out to hurt him. He said I should send him a friend request\u2026as Melissa. A few days later, he wrote to me and said, &amp;quot;Dammit, I still love you.&amp;quot; But he was clearly mixed up. Our messages soon dropped off. I went to see his band later that summer, but he barely spoke to me. In the fall of 2012, we picked up again, sending each other notes on Facebook. He said he missed me. I told him I&amp;#039;d lost some weight. He said he was sure I looked great. We began to become friends (yes, I wished it was more, but I was glad it wasn&amp;#039;t less). The show aired in December 2012. My friends and family supported me, but strangers on Twitter hurled insults and told me to die. One good thing happened: The girl whose photo I used on my fake profile wrote to say she forgave me. I&amp;#039;m not proud of what I did, and I&amp;#039;ll never do this again. But I learned from it. I gained confidence when I realized I could be liked for my real personality. And rather than trying to escape my world, I&amp;#039;m working to improve it. Today, I have a boyfriend, a guy I have known since childhood. My goal now is to go to college and maybe become a producer. Jarrod and I still keep in touch. I hope we&amp;#039;ll be friends\u2014for real\u2014for life. --As told to Abigail Pesta "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/advice/a4334/my-catfish-confession/?click=rel>