Written by Kiara Tay
The Honeypot Activist: Seducing Men Out of MAGA
Interview with Brooke Teegarden (@theLetsNotDate)
On Facebook, Brooke Teegarden is a platinum blonde draped in MAGA merchandise — the stereotypical “Trump-loving Republican Barbie”. She wants to become a right-wing commentator, works at an animal conversion therapy centre (yes, to make homosexual animals straight), and regularly goes on tirades about “idiotic leftists”.
She’s also completely fake.
This digitally altered profile is bait; it attracts exactly the men Brooke is targeting: horny, far-right, and deeply misogynistic. Then, once they’re hooked, the real Brooke carefully weaves feminist history and working-class stories into the conversation, balancing them with charming replies to the men’s flirtatious comments. She simultaneously panders to the Republican propaganda that they’ve been fed and sows the seeds of subversion.
The transcripts of these conversations, anonymised, become the content for her Instagram account, @theletsnotdate, which has amassed over 200,000 followers.
The crazy part? Her strategy works. Over her 1,000+ posts, many of them have featured MAGA men beginning to question the rhetoric they’ve been fed, to take a step on a ladder out of the echo chamber they’ve been trapped in.
Origins of @theLetsNotDate
“At first, [my account] was a joke I made for myself, a way to reverse the discomfort and make the sender feel as unsettled as I did,” Brooke tells me, recalling the origins of @theLetsNotDate. The name referenced her original mission: chronicling how many absurd things she could say before men stopped flirting with her. “It began in fear, that overwhelming dread of receiving unsolicited sexual advances, but they don’t scare me anymore. I have the power now.”
She quickly realised this power could be weaponised for good, beyond her own symbolic attack on misogyny, and she began to do just that. Soon, Republican Barbie was no longer just a joke but a tool for activism.
The Anatomy of a Honeypot
Why is her strategy so effective? It hinges on positioning herself as an ally to make MAGA men feel safe talking to a fellow “patriot”. Brooke also cleverly uses her profile’s attractiveness and youth to her advantage. “People listen when they’re forced to look directly at what their politics produces, especially when a woman they want is the one telling it to them.” Despite being exposed to liberal-leaning opinions, the men stay engaged in the conversation, hoping their attentiveness may be rewarded with saucy photos or her approval.
Furthermore, instead of trying to overcome their misogyny, Brooke leans into the vulnerability of her persona. She appeals to their protectiveness and ego: “I’m so glad men like you exist to protect the world from ICE.” She isn’t a combative woman seeking to tear down their beliefs. She’s a kind (and hot) woman increasingly disillusioned by the Trump administration’s human rights abuses—perfectly crafted, perfectly palatable.
Her tactics also occasionally escalate beyond simple conversation to fabrication. In one exchange, she impersonated a friend of a man’s daughter to inform him that his daughter had been detained and killed by ICE. In another, she forwarded a series of alarming news articles about “ISIS” abductions, only to reveal they were verbatim reports of ICE arrests, with the agency’s name substituted. While some commenters may call her methods extreme, she stands by her actions, noting that she is only returning the favour to these MAGA men, who have publicly expressed that victims of ICE shootings deserved to be unjustly shot, and that ICE should not be policed. Hence, she is simply forcing genuine reflection by putting them in these situations.
The Activist’s Responsibility
Despite the deteriorating state of America’s political climate, Brooke remains hopeful. “I’m living in the same dread a lot of Americans are. What keeps me from giving in completely are the conversations. Many of them are awful. Cruel, dehumanising, exhausting. But some aren’t.”
It is those conversations that succeed, those men who start questioning themselves that keep Brooke reaching out to men she’d rather never talk to. “Through my satirical persona, I see the unravelling from the inside. Right-wing women openly expressing regret, fear, disorientation about the consequences of their votes,” she says. “I don’t believe anyone harmed by their votes owes them forgiveness. But I do believe in outreach as damage control. If I can slow the collapse, redirect a few people, or prevent further harm, I feel a responsibility to try.”
She pauses. “I do feel hope. I’m not always sure whether it’s something I’m choosing out of necessity or something genuinely emerging. But it’s there.”
Final Thoughts
Whether one views Brooke Teegarden’s methods as ingeniously brilliant or immorally deceitful, they confront the uncomfortable truth about our current polarised political climate. Her strategy succeeds precisely where traditional activism often falters because it meets its subjects where they are, in an environment they trust, and speaks a language they understand. It bypasses their defences against perceived liberal condescension.
Her work also serves as a stark mirror for the left. Reading the conversations on her account, one encounters moments that defy easy stereotypes of far-right men, such as instances of unexpected empathy for those affected by ICE. Sometimes, it’s also clear that these men have never seen these articles before, revealing how entrenched their echo chamber is. It exposes an uncomfortable reflex on all sides: the tendency to categorise political opponents as monolithic, incapable of complexity. I believe Brooke’s act is radical, not because of the catfishing itself, but her underlying premise: that persuasion requires first seeking connection, and that, before we can dismantle a wall, we must first understand why someone feels safe behind it. Brooke may not be an activist in the traditional sense of the word, but in these troubling times, she is absolutely the activist we need.
