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Narnaiezzsshaa Truong
Narnaiezzsshaa Truong

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What Fraud Taught Me About Teaching Children Digital Trust: A Retrospective

I gave up everything in 2014 for sole custody of my children after discovering infidelity in my marriage and fraud in our family business. That experience—navigating betrayal, rebuilding trust, protecting what mattered most—fundamentally shapes how I approach cybersecurity education today.

I raised my youngest (now 27) through the early digital transition. We didn't have frameworks for teaching children about online manipulation, social engineering, or digital trust. We were figuring it out as we went, in a household where I'd just experienced firsthand how sophisticated deception operates—how it wears the face of love, partnership, and opportunity.

Now, as a Certified Pharmacy Technician transitioning to cybersecurity (CompTIA A+ through CySA+, pursuing SANS certifications and AWS Solutions Architect Associate), I work in systems designed to detect fraud. I configure security controls. I analyze threat patterns. I understand the technical architecture of deception.

But my deepest education came from survival, not certification exams.

The Problem: We're Teaching Children to Be Forensic Analysts

Here's what haunts me: A 2025 analysis revealed that 66% of C-suite executives failed to identify AI-generated phishing emails, despite high confidence in their abilities. These are trained professionals with technical resources at their disposal.

Yet traditional cybersecurity education for children essentially says: "Here are the red flags. Learn to spot them. Don't click bad links."

We're asking children to perform amateur digital forensics that two-thirds of executives can't manage.

This approach:

  • Increases anxiety without building practical skills
  • Assumes technical literacy most families lack
  • Isolates children at their moment of greatest vulnerability
  • Fundamentally misunderstands how manipulation works

What Fraud Taught Me

When you've experienced sophisticated fraud, you learn something crucial: Deception doesn't look like deception.

The emails don't arrive with obvious grammar mistakes and Nigerian prince stories anymore. They come with:

  • Logos you trust
  • Urgency that bypasses critical thinking
  • Flattery that lowers defenses
  • Emotional hooks that feel like care

Sound familiar? That's social engineering. That's phishing. That's the same manipulation architecture I experienced in 2014, now optimized by AI and deployed at scale against our children.

Technical pattern-matching fails against emotional manipulation.

What works? Pause. Breathe. Feel.

A Different Approach: Contemplative Cybersecurity

After processing my own trauma through contemplative practice—because you don't survive betrayal and custody battles without learning to sit with difficult emotions—I developed a methodology I now call care-based security.

Instead of teaching children to be analysts, I teach them to be wise.

Instead of memorizing red flags, I teach them to pause between impulse and action.

Instead of fear-based warnings, I offer rituals that build discernment.

This isn't soft. This is strategic. Because the pause between stimulus and response? That's where safety lives. That's what saved me. That's what I'm teaching.

Psalm 3: The Phisher's Rebuke

I've compiled 25 contemplative "psalms" for digital wisdom—short, memorable verses paired with family rituals. These emerged from what I wish I'd had while raising my children through digital adolescence, informed by both my fraud survival and my current cybersecurity practice.

Here's Psalm 3, which addresses phishing through emotional intelligence:


The Phisher's Rebuke

They come with sugar in their tongue,

With logos forged and praises sung.

But we shall hover, pause, and see—

No bait shall breach our sanctity.


The "Hover Pause" Ritual

This is the practical implementation I teach families:

When encountering any digital request (link, download, message asking for action):

  1. Hover - Literally hover your finger or cursor over the link
  2. Pause - Take three deep breaths
  3. Feel - Notice what your body is telling you
  4. Ask - "Does this feel safe and expected?"

For children, I frame it this way:

"Phishing messages are like strangers offering candy. They try to make you excited or scared so you don't think carefully. The 'hover pause' gives your wise mind time to catch up with your impulse."

This works because it:

  • Builds in delay (impulse needs time to pass)
  • Engages the body (somatic wisdom children can access)
  • Doesn't require technical analysis (accessible to all ages)
  • Creates a ritual (repeatable, memorable, transferable)

Age Adaptations

Ages 5-8: Practice the physical hover motion. "Let your finger float above the screen while you take three deep breaths."

Ages 9-12: Add the feeling check. "How does your tummy feel? Do you feel rushed or pressured?"

Ages 13+: Include critical thinking. "Who benefits if I click this? What are they trying to make me feel?"

Why This Works

The "hover pause" isn't about technical sophistication. It's about emotional regulation meeting threat detection.

When I was navigating fraud, I didn't need better forensic skills. I needed to slow down and listen to the discomfort I was ignoring. I needed to pause between what someone was asking me to do and my response.

Children need the same skill. Not "detect this specific phishing pattern," but "notice when something feels wrong and give yourself space to think."

Beyond Fear-Based Training

I'm now caregiving for my elderly mother while building my cybersecurity consultancy (Soft Armor Labs) and creating educational materials. The through-line is always the same: security as care, not control.

Whether I'm:

  • Configuring firewalls for small businesses
  • Teaching my mother about SMS scams
  • Writing contemplative frameworks for families
  • Designing my "Cybersecurity Witwear" educational apparel line

The methodology remains: Pause. Care. Protect what matters.

Because I learned the hard way that:

  • Control fails (couldn't control my ex-spouse's fraud)
  • Fear exhausts (hypervigilance isn't sustainable)
  • Technical complexity alienates (most people aren't security analysts)
  • Care persists (it's what got me through, what protects my mother now, what I'm passing down)

The Complete Collection

Psalm 3 is one of 25 in my book Digital Wisdom Stories: Screen Time Solutions Through Simple Family Rituals. Each offers:

  • A contemplative verse (memorizable, meaningful)
  • A family ritual (immediately actionable)
  • Age adaptations (5-8, 9-12, 13+)
  • Teaching frameworks (emotional scaffolding, not just technical rules)
  • Full-color illustrations (visual learning for all styles)

Topics include:

  • Password creation as contemplative practice
  • Bedtime digital boundaries (the "Log-Off Lullaby")
  • Teaching digital consent to children
  • Recovering from mistakes with compassion (the "Oops Psalm")
  • Family healing after digital incidents
  • Building trust in digital age

Available now:

  • Digital Wisdom Stories on Gumroad - $14.99 PDF with immediate access
  • LibraryThing Early Reviewers Giveaway (December 1st) - 10 free digital copies, random selection

Why I'm Sharing This

I'm building toward a career transition from pharmacy to cybersecurity. My path has been:

  • Fraud survivor → contemplative practitioner
  • Single parent → digital wisdom educator
  • Caregiver → care-based security architect
  • Technical learner → human-centered threat modeler

Everything connects.

The fraud taught me how manipulation works.

The custody fight taught me what protection costs.

The caregiving teaches me sustained attention.

The contemplative practice taught me pause creates safety.

The certifications give me technical credibility.

The lived experience gives me wisdom.

If you're a tech parent wondering how to teach children about digital threats without terrifying them, try the "hover pause" tonight. Literally. Next time your child (or you) encounters a link or request:

Hover. Pause. Breathe. Feel. Decide.

That three-second delay might be the most powerful security control you ever implement.


About This Series

This is part of my broader work creating contemplative approaches to cybersecurity education. You might also enjoy:

  • Myth-Tech Security Framework Series (15-part series mapping ancient wisdom traditions to modern security architectures)
  • OSI Layer-Based Security Series (technical deep-dives, Layers 1-4 published)
  • Cybersecurity Witwear™ (visual learning through wearable education)

All rooted in the same principle: Security as inheritance-grade care, not disposable compliance.


For families seeking trauma-informed alternatives to fear-based digital education.

For tech parents who want wisdom, not just warnings.

For anyone who understands that the pause between impulse and action is where safety lives.

Narnaiezzsshaa Truong

Certified Pharmacy Technician | Cybersecurity Professional in Transition

Author, Digital Wisdom Stories | Founder, Soft Armor Labs


Comments welcome. What "pause practices" have worked in your family?


Top comments (2)

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jess profile image
Jess Lee

Great post, thanks for sharing! I know this is the opposite end of the spectrum, but I imagine these techniques also work for the older generations that are non-digital natives?

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narnaiezzsshaa profile image
Narnaiezzsshaa Truong

Absolutely—the framework transfers directly. Elderly users often face the same emotional flooding around technology that children do, just with added shame ("I should know this by now"). The folklore/ritual approach works because it's how humans have always transmitted wisdom across generations. I've actually been exploring an adaptation: same archetypal characters, reframed as "digital wisdom circles" rather than bedtime stories. The contemplative structure gives non-digital natives pause-and-reflect tools that checklists can't provide.