TLDR: Netflix’s “Unknown Number: The High School Catfish” tells a shocking story of deception and harm, but fails to center the trauma of those most impacted. By softening the perpetrator’s accountability and overlooking the survivor’s reality, the film mirrors the very dynamics that allow covert abuse to go unseen.

A Story That Needed More Than Shock Value

Okay, we’ve gotta talk about it. But in case you don’t like spoilers, consider this your SPOILER ALERT. 

Unknown Number: The High School Catfish follows the disturbing story of Lauryn, a teenager who, along with a classmate and boyfriend, was manipulated and abused through years of explicit messages. The shocking twist is that the person behind the texts was not a stranger; it was Lauryn’s own mother, Kendra.

The documentary presents this as a dramatic reveal, but what it does not do is fully explore the psychological and emotional impact on Lauryn. Instead, it spends time softening Kendra’s image, treating her with empathy and curiosity that was never extended to the child who endured the abuse.

Survivors Don’t Always Look How We Expect

Lauryn’s responses throughout the film may have looked confusing to some, but they were deeply predictable for a trauma survivor. Her freeze when the truth came out was not passivity; it was her nervous system protecting her from the unbearable shock. Later, her desire to stay connected to her mother, even after incarceration, reflected a child’s instinct for survival. When no other caregiver provides safety, the body clings to the only relationship available, even if that connection is harmful.

These are not signs of acceptance. They are survival responses. They show just how alone Lauryn was in her pain.

When Perpetrators Are Treated Gently

Kendra, the perpetrator, was portrayed as meek, pitiable, and even sympathetic. Because she was a mother, she was not treated as the dangerous predator she was. This reflects a broader cultural bias: women, especially mothers, are often excused from accountability when it comes to harassing, stalking, or sexually abusing their children.

The truth is, Kendra’s actions were deliberate, prolonged, and devastating. She stalked and sexually abused her daughter and her daughter’s peer under the guise of fabricated identities. Trauma may explain parts of her story, but it never excuses abuse. Most survivors live with trauma every day without harming others. To minimize Kendra’s danger is to overlook the depth of Lauryn’s suffering.

Why This Matters

By focusing on Kendra’s excuses and questioning Lauryn’s reactions, Unknown Number missed its most important responsibility: naming harm clearly and protecting survivors. What Lauryn needed, and what so many survivors need, is acknowledgment that her responses were survival and her pain was real.

When we view stories like this through a trauma-informed lens, we move away from blame and disbelief and toward the validation survivors deserve. That is where true healing begins.

If you watched this documentary and felt triggered, or if you were unable to watch it out of fear of what it would bring up, please know that you are not alone. For those who endured childhood trauma, particularly at the hands of their caregiver, it makes sense that watching instances of caregiver trauma would feel deeply unsettling to you and your nervous system. And for anyone who can relate to Lauryn’s story, I’m sorry for what you have had to endure at the hands of someone who should have been there to protect you.

Thank you for letting me see you,