I Was Going to Write about ‘Love is Blind’, But I Didn’t
I’m not perfect.
I was going to write about Love is Blind Season 3.
I was going to psychoanalyze a group of people I didn’t know.
I was going to tell a story of their lives pieced from 1-hour edited and produced snippets of their existence.
I was going to speak about an experience I’ve never had; where 3rd parties (producers) are a catalyst for drama and excessive wine is a lubricant for loose lips. One where “private” conversations are made public and if it isn’t on camera, it never happened.
I was going to imply words unsaid and things unseen to create a narrative driven by characters that can neatly fit a prototype when, in reality, humans are complex.
I was going to fill in the blanks with my own perception and projections.
I was going to put it up on the internet where it would never die and the real people behind my characters might stumble across it.
I was going to call my characters names and place those names right next to their names to make myself feel better, smarter, and more mature.
I was going to use my characters — a sample size of 10 to make generalizations for the general population, mostly by gender — probably a bit by race.
I was debating titles like “Love is Blind: Why Men Need Therapy”, and “Love is Blind: Opening Our Eyes to Today’s Dating Challenges.”
I was going to garner clicks and host conversations on a subject I don’t have enough context for.
I was going to immortalize my thoughts, feelings, and opinions as strongly with a group of strangers online as I do with close family and friends behind closed doors, letting them pile onto it and spin it as they wish.
I was going to lend my voice to a narrative that contributes to depression and suicide among reality TV participants.
I was going to chime in on a saturated narrative of who sucks for saying “beauty matters” on a show called Love is Blind; who has anger issues; who is gaslighting. It doesn’t matter who, because each of them needs inner work as much as the next person.
I was going to mind someone’s business instead of the business that pays me — although their business would have paid me.
I was going to make a lot of money off of it; I watched other writers do.
I was going to write about Love is Blind.
I was going to write about people who “signed up for it”, though they might have had no way of knowing what it truly entailed — the villain edit, the death threats, their weakest moments televised, and their mundane joys left on the cutting room floor.
In the end, I wrote about Love is Blind, but I tried to see the people at stake.
I love reality TV as much as (if not more than) the next person. I wrote my entire dissertation about reality TV. I gossip about different shows with my sister and scrutinize onscreen behaviors with my friends. I’m not perfect. I try to be mindful about sharing harsh and hurtful opinions where they’ll live forever...in writing...and one of the real people from a reality show might stumble upon it.
Thank you for reading! If you’re wondering why I’ve been publishing less frequently, here’s why (still writing every day, just a lot in the drafts pile).
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