Love isn't 'blind,' but can we learn from this Netflix show?
Hell yeah—that’s why I watch it! For the queer analysis it forces.
Q:
I know there’s no such thing as a guilty pleasure, but I can’t help it: I feel guilty for watching this train wreck of a series every season. I know you watch it, too, and that gives me some hope: Is there something we can learn from the chaos? Or is it just schadenfreude?
A:
Recently, I saw a post on Instagram that really resonated with me: It noted that, ultimately, it’s smart people who love to watch reality television, because it allows for behavioral analysis—that that’s the thing we love about it. And while I have some thoughts of the smart/vapid binary (and how that’s used against women in particular), we can save that for another day. Because yes! I agree!
Love Is Blind, and other shows like it, forces us to reckon with cishetero-normativity and compulsory monogamy.
And taking that perspective is an inherently queer, feminist analysis, both of the media itself and of the cultural phenomena that allow it to exist.
When I watch these shows, and feverishly text with my friends about them, what I’m fascinated by is how scripts around dating (from the straightness of it all to the idealization of a monogamous marriage) are so deeply embedded in our psyches that we’re able to agree upon the premise – and the drama.
And the resulting conversations around these brief household names actually do exactly what queer theory is supposed to do:
As academic Jay Stewart explains, “Queer theory and politics necessarily celebrate transgression in the form of visible difference from norms. These ‘norms' are then exposed to be norms, not natures or inevitabilities.”
That is to say, once we’re able to name something as a societal norm, we’re able to question it, challenge it, disrupt it.
Here are just some of the norms that shows like Love Is Blind ultimately ask us to reckon with.
Why Are We Obsessed with Marriage?
The premise of the most popular dating shows, from Married at First Sight to The Ultimatum, is this: Marriage is of utmost importance, and it’s perfectly reasonable for people to do anything to achieve it. Including pod dating.
When you see how (dare I say) desperate people are to get married – not to connect, not to find romance, not to be loved, but to get married – you start to question marriage as an institution.
What is it about marriage that creates such a frenetic desire? Why is marriage the ultimate commitment? If marriage were a natural phenomenon, rather than a forced system that benefits governments, why would we need to go to such great lengths to achieve it?
What is it about the status of husband and wife that makes it goal-worthy, far and away over the ideas that marriage is supposed to represent, like commitment, shared resources, and safety?
The answer is: Within the value of community care, we don’t need to sign legal documents.
How Do We Get in Our Own Way?
The idea that “love is blind” is actually fascinating. What the show banks on is that we all understand that we get in our way in dating.
Sure, a lot of this has to do with looks. (Don’t get me started on how, as plain as the men often are on these shows, no one is terribly far away from socialized beauty standards. There’s never any “Surprise! Your match is actually fat/trans/disabled!” – not that there should be.)
But what I notice folks on Love Is Blind often sharing is more that they’re trying to push themselves to do something different: to date folks who wouldn’t normally fall into “their type” – not just physically, but also relationally.
Without exactly using this language, people will often name that they’re walking away from connections in the pods because their nervous systems are telling them that this person will lead them down the same path. Alex dumping Madison for her avoidant attachment this season is a great example of that. He was activated. He walked away. (Whether or not I think this was fair is another story.)
We, too, need to reckon with the ways in which we follow patterns that ultimately aren’t serving us. And that’s actually a powerful lesson.
Isn’t Monogamy Actually Kind of Weird?
Don’t get me wrong: It’s perfectly valid and fair to choose to practice monogamy. But the compulsory nature of it is strange. If you’re going to choose monogamy, great. But choose it, rather than falling into it because you don’t think you have other choices.
Monogamy is funny to me because even most monogamists practice a version of non-monogamy until they choose not to.
I don’t want to conflate casual dating, dating around, or dating to find The One with non-monogamy. Because they absolutely are not the same. But arguably, when we do engage in these culturally normified scripts, we are practicing a form of non-monogamy: We are dating multiple people at once.
Indeed, on a show like Love Is Blind, folks are hyperaware that the people they’re dating are also dating other people. And while it causes some stress for people, it’s ultimately accepted.
What is the turning point when we feel like monogamy is the only way forward? And why? Are we actually as “unable” to practice non-monogamy as we may think?
What’s Up with Men’s Entitlement?
I watch Love Is Blind for two things: when all of the couples meet one another while on their vacationing honeymoon, and when they meet other contestants from the show upon returning home.
And this season, I was incredibly impressed with how the Lauren/Dave/Molly so-called “love triangle” played out when Molly showed up at the bar.
Often, this kind of interaction follows a predictable script: The scorned person (often a woman) approaches the person they were dating in the pods, and they realize that they have a connection that calls into question the chosen pairing. Drama ensues.
This season, though, when Molly approached Dave, it was all with girls’ girl energy: She showed up as an ally to Lauren, through and through. Having gotten close to Dave in the pods, and having already heard Lauren’s side of the story, she knew what kinds of questions to ask to get Dave to challenge his own choices.
And then she walked away.
This was a badass moment that we can all learn from, patriarchy be damned.
Wait—Why Is Queerness Still a Problem?
Did this season’s Devin learn nothing from first season’s Diamond? Biphobia is out (why was it ever in?). And fans are not impressed with folks who are unaccepting of queer contestants.
In general, this shows an awesome cultural shift: Overall, the consumers of Love Is Blind aren’t having it. But it also shows how much further we still have to go: Some people truly have a meltdown at the idea of a bisexual partner.
And we’d all do well to sit down with ourselves and challenge the biphobia we hold onto, whether it’s internalized or externalized.
So, can we learn something from reality dating shows? Yes, we can. Because they offer up a microcosm of dating culture as a whole.
And if we’re open to challenging our own sh*t that comes up while being a fly on the wall for others’ dating experiences, we can actually work through a lot.
Love,
Melissa