Roses & Red Flags
James (name has been changed) was tall, light, and handsome. We had known each other for almost a year when he asked me out on a date. I was thoroughly confused because his best friend had just asked me out on a date the week before. “Don’t you guys talk to each other?,” I asked. “Yes,” he said. “We both like you so we think you should decide who you want to date.”
Sounds like something influenced by The Bachelor, right? Well, this experience took place a year before The Bachelor aired for the first time. It was just two guys and a girl trying to navigate these murky waters of singleness. My single life was as turbulent and unpredictable as they came. Highlights of my single days were: for a span of two years, guys “dated” me not because they actually liked me but because they were bored; a guy took me out on a lavish date only to call me from jail the next week asking me to bail him out; and then there were the years where I just felt invisible to men. Those experiences, and many more, are how I found comfort in seeing a grip of people drive up to that mansion hoping to find their forever boo.
There are some who believe the whole thing is rigged for tv and no one in their right minds would ever go on a show like that to find love. I disagree. When dating in real life has left you feeling like you keep hosting parties that no one attends, why not try something else?! While the moments of histrionics the show puts the suitors through are unnecessary, what I appreciate about the show is that it gives each person the opportunity to witness how they show up in relationships and hopefully challenge them to adjust to becoming their best dating self. From the most recent season of The Bachelorette, one of the fellas who got rejected talked about how the show was a blessing for him because it shook him out of the passive way he used to pursue relationships. For every person that has ever asked me, “Why would you ever watch that show?!,” I contend that notwithstanding the inherent messiness of how they date, there are emotional and psychological lessons to learn about yourself in the midst of this type of environment.
One of the biggest commentaries against The Bachelor is that many of the couples split up; the show is great in helping people hook up but then leaves those people ripe for ruin once the cameras stop rolling. But it seems like the longer the show is on the air, the more successful it’s become in couples staying together. Besides, aren’t we all out in these streets (pre and post pandemic) doing the best we know how, mitigating our baggage whilst learning how to be a better partner? That’s what I get out of The Bachelor. What’s ironic for me is that it’s uncharacteristic of me to follow a show that is so historically lacking in diversity. And yet I’m fascinated.
My husband does not in the least bit share my views. Here are his thoughts.
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I’m one of those people repulsed by The Bachelor. I hate the show. Period. While we dated and after we were married, my wife Jocelyn continued to suggest, then harass, then demand that I watch the show with her. She even had the audacity to say that it could be part of our “together time.” Clearly, I relented. I immediately regretted my decision.
The grotesque performance romance on display does not sully love, as it were, but denigrates the human spirit trading the necessary “off camera” work of self-development for the on camera show of competition. For the men on the show, especially when a dozen men are simultaneously dating one woman, their sensitivity is mocked, their bodies objectified as they are thrown into a competitive caldron of gamesmanship to win the affection if not arousal of one woman. Sounds familiar yes and possibly just rewards for a society that has objectified, belittled, mocked, stereotyped and lampooned women. All that I’ve said about the men on the show feigning in a baker’s dozen for one woman goes doubly so for the women locked in battle for a guy that couldn’t worth the level of humiliation and self-loathing required and displayed on the show.
Now some will say that all The Bachelor is doing is making public what happens in private. I disagree. I agree. I disagree because usually 12 on 1 liaisons happen over a period of time and the full egg carton of suitors never meet. One could say that the show espouses honesty and transparency and the ultimate of adult behaviors, setting boundaries and asking for what you want. Herein I agree. But the show is, after all, a show. And what we know about a show is that what’s behind the curtain is more important and meaningful than what’s in front. We see, through careful editing and television witchcraft, what they want us to see. Emotions amplified for maximum effect. Cut away to the single teared cry. The anguish. The triumph. The ask. This is not reality. This is a presentation of reality that, because its gaze is pronounced or labeled as love or the search for love, is artificial and through its viewing and wide viewership is transforming the way love is seen, viewed and felt.
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What say you? I’m here for you to either vent or confess your Bachelor feelings.