The sixth season of Love is Blind is many things, alternating between frustrating, fascinating, irritating, and boring. Despite that, the season is being heralded by many as a return to form.
Four years in, it's commonly accepted that the “experiment” is broken. (You know it’s true when both The New York Times and Vox write about it). The idea that people (be they American, Swedish, Japanese, Brazilian, or British) can fall in love with someone without ever seeing them has been foiled time and time again by the fallibility of the human condition. Unfortunately, people care about maturity levels, finances, religion, etc. when deciding whether or not they want to spend the rest of their lives with someone.
Also, and this should go without saying: the American seasons of Love is Blind have yet to cast someone “conventionally unattractive” to truly test their hypothesis. The sixth season used a casting agency to reach out to conventionally attractive normies on Instagram. The message is clear: this is not a space for real people, or real bodies, or anyone outside the norm.
That being said, the die has been cast: the villain of season six has emerged as Chelsea Blackwell, a deeply insecure flight attendant who drew the internet’s ire when she compared herself to Megan Fox. After the initial drop of episodes, I predicted that the twin hydras of insecurity and Chelsea’s anxious attachment would be her undoing, and I was quickly proven right. You could literally watch the internet’s goodwill toward her curdle as the show aired.
Week after week, Chelsea started arguments where she would immediately start crying, project her narrative onto her partner’s, and when said partner (Jimmy) refused to kowtow to her ever-shifting demands, she’d accuse him of not loving her enough. Each of these things taken individually are Not Great, but together they show that this person is nowhere near healed enough to be pursuing romantic love on television and they should be meeting with their therapist twice a week.
Chelsea and Jimmy argued at least once per episode over the course of eight episodes in a row. Last week, I made a TikTok stating that Chelsea was emotionally manipulative due to her go-to tactic of crying, stone-walling whenever Jimmy responded, and immediately countering with a completely separate argument whenever he responded to any of her grievances. It seemed as if she wasn’t interested in actually having conversations and was only concerned with having her emotions validated and feelings heard in every single conflict.
I will also point out that there seems to be a divide in the reception of Chelsea’s tears: many of my POC followers pointed out the phenomenon of White Women’s Tears (where white women will cry to attain beneficial outcomes in interpersonal conflicts and in workplace situations). I didn’t connect Chelsea’s behavior to a greater overall context in the video, as I was only talking about her behavior in the context of winning/losing an argument, but I felt I would be remiss to not point out this is why many POC viewers have turned on her.
The reception to the video was mixed, with someone calling me a misogynist for criticizing a woman’s behavior. I’ve spoken at length about the wielding of identity as a cudgel, so I won’t go into it beyond that, but the accusation did sting. I texted a female friend about it and she agreed Chelsea was behaving inappropriately in the context of a romantic relationship and anyone would break up with her due to her behavior.
I thought about it for a few more days and then it hit me: I played into the show’s hands. Or, in Swiftie speak: I think I’ve seen this film before.
When the first season of Love is Blind premiered four years ago (almost exactly a month before the “official” start of the pandemic) we weren’t aware of the show's formula and casting archetypes. Every season we have: a star-crossed couple who thrive during the experiment, someone clearly there for the wrong reasons, the reticent man-child, the hyper mature woman you can’t believe is still single, and the Villain.
In season one, we were introduced to Jessica Batten, a 34 year old project manager who was upset about being the last single woman in her friend group and who regretted chasing her career instead of pursuing love. She found herself in a love triangle with manchild Matt Barnett, who chose tomboy Amber Pike, and Mark Cuevas, an earnest 24 year old who claimed he was ready for marriage. Jessica was immediately hated by fans due to her flirtatious “sexy baby voice” and for continuing to flirt with Barnett after he chose Amber. She was confronted by Amber at the reunion for her behavior, and Jessica apologized and said she was drinking too much on the show due to her nervousness about being on camera1.
It was clear Jessica did not want to marry Mark: she spent the entire season questioning their ten year age gap, she showed up to the wedding alone, with no friends or parents in attendance, and ended their relationship minutes after getting to the altar. We now know that producers forced participants to reject their partners at the altar, but back then, it seemed unnecessarily cruel. But what were Jessica’s crimes, really? Not wanting to marry a 24 year old? Being drunk on camera on a reality show? I can’t really condone the flirting with an engaged man, but the hatred she received felt disproportionate to the behavior we witnessed. She seemed like someone who was constantly on edge, a ball of nerves tensed tightly whenever there was a camera trained on her. Jessica quickly stepped out of the limelight: she returned to the After the Altar spin-off to assure us she was happy with her new beau, and married him shortly thereafter.
Season two introduced us to a whole new crop of daters in 2022, among them Natalie Lee and Shayne Jansen. Their connection seemed to be summed up in that one Gone Girl quote: “Nick teased out in me things I didn't know existed. A lightness, a humor, an ease. But I made him smarter. Sharper. I inspired him to rise to my level.” Natalie was a hyper ambitious consultant who believed roasting was a love language, while Shayne gladly took on the mantle of manchild of the season, becoming known for his jokes and frat boy antics.
It was immediately clear to viewers they were a mismatch. Natalie refused to stop teasing Shayne, who revealed himself to have a bottomless craving for validation. He needed words of affirmation and she wanted a sparring partner: while this partnership is common in fanfiction, in real life, it almost never works unless one of them compromises. It didn’t help that Shayne was tall and “handsome” and also had a connection with squinting Jesus Warrior Shaina Hurley: the fans turned on Natalie, calling her uptight, annoying, sarcastic, and mean.
When the couple broke up, the details were shrouded in secrecy. Natalie teased the mystery and refused to answer plainly for a full year until she alleged there was a sexting encounter between Shayne and Shaina that caused their breakup. This did not endear her to fans, who accused her of withholding details that would have contextualized the situation on the show. Personally, I was on the sub-Reddit, I don’t think a detailed play by play would have helped. They hated Natalie then and they hate Natalie still. Yesterday, in fact, Shayne offered to go on Natalie’s “victim podcast” and address the situation once and for all, a full three years after the fact. (I should also mention it seems Shayne has been in the throes of a mental health crisis since the death of his mother and has made some fairly damaging accusations about himself and other cast members on his Instagram stories since his season aired).
While season two gave us a man who openly disparaged his partner’s looks, leading to the “love is blurry” quote, the villain of the season was once again a woman absolutely crucified by the fandom for being imperfect. I personally don’t think roasting is a love language either but I’m not attacking a consultant turned podcaster for it on Instagram!
The final example I’ll list in detail is that of Zanab and Cole on season three. Cole was the manchild of this season, while Zanab caused so much conversation that some say they’re still arguing about the cuties to this day…
It was obvious to me that Zanab and Cole were horrifically mismatched: she was a tense flight attendant with a tragic past, being raised in Texas after the death of both her parents five years apart, and Cole was a sloppy, messy man who cracked jokes constantly and floated through life using his charm and his big blue eyes. They were a match made in hell. Despite Cole telling her to her face that he usually dates “girls like Colleen” (his second choice, a white woman), and Zanab opening up about feeling less than growing up in Houston around a mostly white populace due to her race and religion, they gave it the old college try before Zanab dumped him with a “the reason you suck” speech.
Sadly, social media had turned on her by then. They accused her of being condescending, harsh, cold, insufferable, rude, and “whitewashed”. In a televised relationship between a slightly unpleasant woman of color and a white man who refuses to take accountability, it’s obvious which side the fans will take. People loved Cole. They thought he was cute and sweet and funny. Zanab wasn’t “nice” and therefore she had to be punished.
The final nail in the coffin was the Cuties Debate, which we will never hear the end of. Before their dinner reservation, Zanab decided to eat two tiny clementines. Cole asked if she should eat them since they were going to dinner in an hour. She said she couldn’t wait and ate them. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? You’d be wrong. Zanab accused Cole of fat-shaming her and said the statement sent her to therapy, while Cole said he was only protecting her appetite and accused her of turning the fans against him. Zanab has since said the show was protecting Cole by not showing scenes of him belittling her.
The entire thing is a mess, but unsurprising. There was no way Zanab would ever win against a handsome white man, even if she was “perfect”. The issue with studying sociology is that you see the cracks in everything, and I feel like I sound like a broken record to myself. Every time I’m ready to point out the way something is misogynistic, or racist, or problematic, I have to triple check to make sure I’m not hallucinating or beating a dead horse. I do not mean to be a drip, I promise!
A few months ago, I made a post about how Netflix references the Am I the Asshole? playbook of engineering views for its reality shows, creating tense interpersonal situations and leaving the fans to argue about who’s right and who’s wrong for the rest of time, all the while drumming up insane levels of social media chatter. I also talked about how the entirety of season five was about Men Who Hate Women in acts, in deeds, and in words. I was this close to putting it all together back then.
It seems as if the show’s pattern is to offer up one woman to the fandom as a sacrificial lamb in order to drive engagement and conversation. I acknowledge there is always a charitable read: maybe I’m being sensitive. It’s funny, lighten up! But I’m trained to spot patterns. Perhaps it isn’t the show’s intention for one woman to be destroyed in the process of making messy television, but it’s interesting that it happened in season one. And season two. And season three. And seasons five and six as well. (Season four seemed to split the vote between mean girl twosome Irina and Micah, with a surprise addition of Micah’s friend Shelby in the latter half of the season.)
The way every season of Vanderpump Rules needs a Jezebel to be slut-shamed by the cast, every season of Love is Blind has one woman fans glom onto and bully into submission. It feels like a chicken and egg situation: the show knowingly casts these desperate, unlikable people and presents them to us in their imperfect glory to be judged. Do they know the women will be judged SO much more harshly than the men? Will they learn? Do they care? Does it matter?
I know how reality TV works. Someone is crafting these narratives. Whether it’s a story producer or an editor or an executive, someone is pointing out that these stories are the ones that drive attention to the show and ensure these women get cast in the first place. Ultimately, I’m torn about the ethics of it all: I love watching disastrous people make disastrous decisions on camera. But the fandoms have become so toxic it’s hard not to point out the sexism of VPR or of the LIB male cast members or of the LIB fandom itself. I feel like a Tumblr teen coming to the realization that it’s all bad, I simply have to choose the bad I can live with.
I think Netflix found the assholes. Spoiler alert: it’s us.
On reality shows, there is a clear distinction between what happens on the show, AKA what is filmed, and anything that happens off of it. It’s less ironclad than a fourth wall (the boundary between the viewer and the audience), but still a very clear boundary for people who film these shows.
I left the love is blind subreddit after all of the Zanab hate. I felt I was going insane because everyone on there hated her and I did not understand why
I don't even watch love is blind but I read the whole thing cause your takes are so good!!!!