In a quiet Jacksonville home, Brandi thought she had found her forever partner in Henry Betsey Jr., a man she met on Stir, a dating app for single parents. Their 2022 wedding, sealed with a marriage license from Gadsden County, felt like the start of a new chapter. Unknown to her, Betsey was already married to Tonya, whom he had wed in 2020 after meeting on Tinder, and Michele, another wife he had charmed through a dating app. Each woman, living in a different Florida county, believed she was Betsey’s one and only. The devastating truth unraveled when Tonya discovered she wasn’t his sole spouse, exposing a web of deception that led to Betsey’s arrest for felony bigamy in Seminole County last year. This shocking case has not only left three women betrayed but also sparked questions about the safeguards in Florida’s marriage system.
Henry Betsey Jr.’s scheme unfolded methodically between 2020 and 2022, as he navigated dating apps like Tinder, Stir, and Match.com to court women across Florida. Tonya, his first known wife, met him on Tinder and married him in Duval County in November 2020, just days after securing a marriage license in Gadsden County. She later described Betsey as someone who “sold the perfect person” online, only to reveal a far darker reality. Michele, another victim, married Betsey in a separate county, unaware of his existing vows. Brandi, the third wife, tied the knot with him in Jacksonville in 2022, only to evict him from her home five days later when his behavior raised red flags. None of the women knew of the others, and Betsey maintained his secret life until Tonya’s discovery prompted his arrest.
The fallout has been deeply personal for the women involved. Tonya and Michele both sought domestic violence protection orders, citing abusive behavior from Betsey after their marriages soured. Brandi, reflecting on her brief marriage, expressed relief at her quick decision to end contact but remains shaken by the betrayal. Some of the women suspect Betsey’s motives were financial, pointing to patterns of manipulation that left them emotionally and possibly economically drained. Betsey, now facing felony bigamy charges in Hernando County, has pleaded not guilty and is seeking annulments for his marriages to Michele and Brandi while finalizing a divorce from Tonya. His next court hearing looms, but he has declined to comment through his attorney.
Beyond the personal toll, this case has exposed gaps in Florida’s marriage oversight. Pinellas County Clerk Ken Burke, whose office processes thousands of marriage licenses annually, noted that Florida’s status as a wedding destination—complete with minimal waiting periods for non-residents—makes it challenging to track marital statuses across counties or states. With approximately 6,000 marriage licenses issued yearly in Pinellas County alone, Burke suggested that a national marriage registry could help but acknowledged the difficulty of implementing such a system given people’s mobility and varying state laws. The absence of a centralized database allowed Betsey to exploit the system, marrying multiple times without detection.
The women, now connected by their shared ordeal, are vocal about the need for change. They argue that the system failed to protect them, allowing Betsey to prey on their trust. Tonya, in particular, hopes for a conviction that ensures Betsey faces more than probation, emphasizing the need for accountability. Their story resonates with countless others who navigate the vulnerable world of online dating, where charm can mask deceit. As Betsey’s case moves through the courts, it serves as a stark reminder of the human cost of systemic oversights and the enduring strength of those who uncover the truth. For Tonya, Michele, and Brandi, the path forward involves healing and advocating for a system that better safeguards against such betrayals.