I was recently enjoying a pleasant stroll in the park with my dog, relishing the sunshine and sipping on a coffee, when the serene moment was abruptly disrupted by the chime of a direct message.

‘Hi Jana, my name is [redacted]… Do you happen to know this man on a personal level?’

‘Ugh,’ I thought, ‘here we go again.’

It’s an occupational hazard of being a sex columnist.

Then, the digital interloper dropped the hammer, sending me a link to a handsome bloke’s Instagram account.

Glup. Yeah, I knew him.

We first crossed paths over ten years ago after I relocated to Newcastle, Australia, for a job. He was a prominent coach for a local sports team, and I had him on a radio show I was producing.

Sparks flew, and we began dating. What I wasn’t aware of then was that he had another girlfriend in a different country. When she unexpectedly flew in for a ‘surprise visit,’ I confronted him furiously and promptly ended things, erasing him from my mind ever since.

So, you can imagine how jarring it was to receive a humiliatingly personal message about him ten years later.

I wrote back, an admittedly defensive, ‘Why?’

Then this social media stranger broke my heart.

‘It’s a long story,’ she wrote, ‘but I’ve just found out he’s been cheating on me for four years (even before we got married), and, back in 2021, I found he was liking your pictures of you in lingerie, etc. So now I’m questioning everything, as you can imagine.’

The lingerie pic that she was referring to was a sultry snap I’d posted as part of a brand deal with a gorgeous female-owned label. I hadn’t even noticed he’d liked it because I don’t follow him. But clearly, in the ten years since I’d known him, he hadn’t changed one bit.

Still a scumbag.

She continued: ‘He claimed he knew you, that’s why he was liking your photos. Hence, I’m asking if you know him.’

Oof. I replied, feeling a bit wounded by the revelations, ‘I met him when I worked in Newcastle over 10 years ago and haven’t seen him since. Sorry I can’t help.’

‘Ok no problem, thank you!’ she replied, graciously. And just like that, my peaceful morning was hijacked by a guilt bomb wrapped in pink ribbon and I was stung by the exploding shame shrapnel.

Of course, I knew that I hadn’t done anything wrong – I dated the man a decade ago – but it’s hard not to feel an inkling of remorse when a regretful relationship is thrown back in your face.

And it wasn’t the only rude reminder that I’d recently received. Another ‘Hey girlie’ message came from a cheated girlfriend doing what can only be described as a digital audit of her allegedly reformed ‘player’ boyfriend. Again, it was polite, respectful – and the sender was, again, seemingly one Instagram ‘like’ away from a complete emotional unravelling.

Look, I get it. Social media has turned us ladies into part-time detectives, analyzing ‘likes,’ ‘follows,’ and ‘timestamps’ like we’re auditioning for CSI: Heartbreak Hotel.

On TikTok, there are entire compilations of ‘Hey girlie’ messages – some ending in solidarity, others in screenshotted scandals, group chat meltdowns and glorious chaos.

It makes for great late-night reading (from between the fingers of a hand pressed firmly to your face). 

My (most/least) favorite example is from a friend who replied to a ‘Hey girlie’ message head-on, writing: ‘Yup. I slept with your man. He’s a creep. Good luck’ 

The blowout was wild. And that Lady Sherlock Holmes booted her Professor Moriarty out the door so fast that his ego is still tumbling down the street. And good for her. 

But allow me a pause to recognize the unwitting third wheels here.

For the recipient of the ‘Hey girlie’ text, this all feels like the modern woman’s equivalent of storming the castle – with a polite knock on the drawbridge first.

It’s friendly. It’s sisterly. But make no mistake: you’re under siege. Your history under a microscope. And that’s not really fair.

Honestly? If you’re in a relationship and you feel the urge to become a full-time detective… the case might already be closed.

We women possess a finely tuned intuition and – annoyingly – it’s rarely wrong. How many times have you heard a friend say, ‘I always suspected he was cheating!’, immediately after uncovering the hard evidence they were looking for?

Trust your gut, ladies!

Which brings us to a serious question: Are these ‘Hey girlie’ messages empowering or just plain destructive?

On the one hand, they’re a refreshingly direct way for women to talk to each other. No bitchiness. No name-calling. Just: ‘Help a sister out.’

But on the other, why do these betrayed chicks assume that another woman owes them anything?

Most of us are just out here trying to post a cute thirst trap, not snag your man. But now we’re being dragged into your troubled relationship like an unpaid (unqualified) therapist.

So, what’s the solution? Short of banning DMs altogether (don’t tempt me), I say that if you’re going to send a ‘Hey girlie’ message, do it with kindness and clarity. But most of all, direct your energy toward the dirtbag who’s causing the drama, not the woman who caught his eye.

To the gals out there sending these DMs: I feel for you.

To the women receiving them: You’re not alone.

And to the man liking lingerie pics behind his partner’s back? Your digital footprint is showing, bro. Clean it up.