The women and the boys

Contains spoilers for Love is Blind and Married at First Sight, as well as my overall disappointment in the most recent seasons.

*Please note that this essay contains gendered language, as it explores two television shows focused on cis-het-couples. It is not intended to be exclusive.

---

Imagine meeting your fiancé behind a wall and having a single month to decide if you will go through with the wedding. Or better yet, imagine meeting your spouse at the alter. Such are the premises of the Netflix hit series, Love is Blind and Lifetime’s Married at First Sight.

I managed to miss the Kardashians craze. I avoided everyone’s Real Housewives real obsession. Not for reasons of judgement or self-righteousness (well, maybe a little), but more for the tone of those shows. Most reality TV leaves me feeling uneasy. The fighting, the backstabbing, the tears. I often finish watching more drained than when I began.

My husband got me into Married at First Sight when I was pregnant with my first. In this show ten singles are matched by experts and meet on their wedding days, at the alter. They then have 2 months to decide if they will stay together or get divorced.

Admittedly, it has its share of drama. It’s about relationships! You follow real couples’ real fights and watch real people grapple in real time with the monumental decision of whether they want to spend the rest of their lives together.

Photo by Keira Burton

But besides the “Next time on Married at First Sight…”, cliffhangers, which consistently set you up to believe there will be tons of tension and misunderstanding in the next episode (or is that just relationships???), the show’s overall intention feels wholesome and pure: to help people find love.

Love is Blind blasted onto the reality TV scene during the pandemic. I would binge watch it on my phone late at night while breastfeeding. Sure, there were “villains” and everyone was clearly drunk for a large portion of filming (or maybe not so clearly since the producers hide cast members’ drinks in bronze chalices so you have no idea how much is being consumed), but Vanessa & Nick Lachey’s intentions for creating the show still feels pure: to help people find love.

These reality shows have been my guilty pleasures for the nearly 5 years of my motherhood journey.

When I’m fatigued from making every single decision for every single person in my household (down to when my husband showers), I pop on an episode of one of these mindless shows and get to focus on other people making a hard decision.

When I’m touched out from having children crawling all over me or insisting on being in my arms, even though I need said arms to hold my other child who also wants to be “up”, I enjoy watching the unencumbered young people go on magical dates and hold hands.

When I’m covered in snot and spit up and who-knows-what-the-hell-that-is-on-my-pants, I like to look at the perfectly coifed people, who can wear white without fear and who still have the time and energy to do a full face of make-up and put on heels, even when it’s not a special occasions (of course, as I wrote in the past, I also resent that women feel they have to do this and wonder how much more powerful we could be if we didn’t spend hours and hours every week beautifying ourselves and attempting to defy aging).

But during the most recent seasons (Season 7 of Love is Blind and Season 17 [!!!] of Married At First Sight), something has gone terribly wrong.

I’m not entertained in the same way. I feel icky and uncertain when I watch. Sometimes, I’m left so uneasy by people’s behavior, that I want to turn the whole thing off. Of course, I don’t do that, because the teaser for the next episode ensures it will be juicy.

I’m not annoyed with the entire cast either.

I’m triggered by the men. Or more accurately, the boys.

I’m triggered by the boys that sign up for these shows and their lack of pure intention or emotional intelligence.

Yes, I resent how coiffed women feel the need to be, but I also get girly and excited for bright colors, long eyelashes and mermaid hair.

The female cast members have been fierce, strong, funny, smart. I love watching them thrive at their respective businesses and lives and I’m energized by how quickly they form strong bonds with one another.

But the men have been…well, boys.

Even the male counterparts in the solitary couples on each respective show who make it to the finish line, act like boys. You could argue they are boys, as some of these cast members only recently finished developing their frontal lobe, but I know this dynamic isn’t just happening on these two shows.

How many women refer to their husbands as their “third child”???

How many single women lament that the dating pool is tainted by Peter Pan syndrome???

Who decided that the woman in a cis-het relationship was going to be the sole adult?

When you look at marriage from the lens of the attachment theory, we are all little kids looking to connect. We are all seeking consistent attachment and reassurance and safety. We are all looking to find shelter in the company of another person.

Women have little girls inside of us, too. We also want to be held and taken care of (NOT to be misread as being financially supported, thankyouverymuch). We also want to be silly and let loose with our friends, and be the fun parent, and stay in bed for a few days when we have a cold, and leave the house and the kids for eight-hour stints without having to make sure everyone has everything they need for the four-hundred-and-eighty minutes that comprise those 8 hours.

Obviously this is not the dynamic in all relationships. Not all men are boys, but the tropes develop for a reason.

And while missing your kid’s school conference because it wasn’t in the family calendar, even though your wife reminded you three times (as just happened with a close friend) is somewhat harmless, the “boys will be boys” mentality can also be incredibly dangerous. Especially when those “boys” are running countries and have codes to nuclear weapons.

Since we can only change our own behavior, my invitation is to you, reader: What is your role in your partnerships and close relationships?

Do you feel equal in responsibilities and pleasures?

Do you feel taken care of when you are unwell and if not, can you bluntly ask for the time and space you need to get well? Or (and I know this is super privileged) pay services to help you achieve that wellness?

How can we step up where we need to and step down where we are not? How can we balance the load in the male-female partnership, so both people get to be adults and both people get to feel like kids again?

I know some of you will read this and text my husband and be like, “Ooooh dude, she’s talking about YOU” *snicker, snicker*. Let me assure you, I’m talking about ALL of us.

All of us deserve to be all of ourselves in our most intimate relationships and the only way that will be possible is some of us step up and some of us step down.