On Love Island & Break-Ups: The Cathartic Nature Of Reality TV
The importance of ‘comfort watching’ in a break up …
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“I started watching the 2019 series of Love Island feeling somewhat smug. I remember wondering how all these fit 20-somethings – my peers! – could be single. They all had in-shape bodies, perfect make-up, and clothes which hugged their figures in all the right places. I compared them to myself, who can’t apply lipstick and whose style sense is a cross between a 5 and 90-year old. How are none of these contestants in a relationship, and yet I inexplicably am?
I admit I watched the beginning of the series in a bit of a high-and-mighty manner, feeling smug and like I must have been doing something right with my life. It was hilarious to me how Anton was continuously pied while I sat at home, cuddled up with a boyfriend. Flip back to the first time I watched the show (Series 3, the birth of Chris and Kem) when I was categorically single, and you could say a lot had changed.
Around three weeks into the series, my boyfriend and I broke up. It obviously hurt. I had gone from feeling happy and secure to going through my first break-up – something my friends had done years ago. For many, watching Love Island and seeing the cast of hot singles hook up with each other might be the furthest thing from their minds, but for me it was what I began to base my life around; a check-in point for each day.
“It’s the only thing giving me joy right now” I half-jokingly said to my housemates as I ran up the stairs to my room, close to missing the start of the next episode.
Whereas traditional rom-coms such as Notting Hill or Pretty Woman made me feel a bit ill with their cliché endings, Love Island felt a bit easier to swallow. The powerful friendships the women formed with each other versus the neon-lit villa and ridiculous challenged were a perfect mixture. Both scripted drama and found footage, full with relatability and theatrics, I lapped it up.
“It’s not exactly a David Attenborough documentary, and of course the show has some deep-rooted issues at its core, but there’s no denying that it can be more than light entertainment.”
It was also comforting to be going through the experience at the same time someone on screen was. Amy, the glam air hostess, had just had her heart shattered by half-boyfriend Curtis, a ballroom dancer. Throughout her time in the villa, she had openly talked about having never been in a relationship, and boy did I identify. She fell hard, and around four weeks in, he cold-heartedly told her that he just didn’t like her anymore (and would prefer to make everyone coffee, but let’s not dwell on that). In a swift moment you could see all light drain from her eyes, and in her own words her future had been taken away from her.
Let’s unpack that: Sure, some would say she’s crazy for falling so deep so quick, but I’m sure many of us would if it was a taste of our first relationship and we spent 24 hours with them, sharing a bed, with no intervention from their closest in the outside world. I don’t believe for one second Amy seriously thought she had no future left, but when you break up with someone all your plans and immediate hopes for the future do disappear and you have to recalibrate a bit.
Watching Amy was like seeing a condensed version of the stages of a break-up. The sadness, the questioning (“I’ve written a list”), the anger, and – finally – the acceptance and realising you need to move on, which she did with such dignity and grace.
Love Island may be called trash TV, and each year receives plenty of criticism from the general public, but it’s got to be noted that it – however unknowingly – really dives into the psychologies of human relationships. You can see a whole spectrum of flirtation, building a stable partnership and dumping all in the space of 6 weeks. There’s heartbreak and huffs, passion and over-protectiveness, and let’s not forget the “Ick”. Plenty of that. We’ve all been in a situation like this year’s contestant Leanne has – everything seems perfect but you just feel that something’s not quite right. And how can we not mention the almost-identical storylines of 2019’s Lucie and Joe, and 2020’s Connor and Sophie: couples where the man is portrayed as perhaps “controlling”. The show is not just entertaining, but it’s a hidden educational tool – especially for the growing number of tweens and teens watching.
It’s not exactly a David Attenborough documentary, and of course the show has some deep-rooted issues at its core, but there’s no denying that it can be more than light entertainment. In fact, I think I’ve probably learnt more about dating from Love Island than the hundreds of cheesy romcoms I’ve watched over the years. Forget When Harry Met Sally, it’s all about When Camilla met Jamie.
And hey, it helped me get through a pretty tough time, so I’m happy to put all my eggs in one basket and defend the show. I’d even go as far to say I’d couple up with it.”
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Thank you so much to the brilliant Daniella for contributing this piece! You can find her on Instagram or Twitter at @daniella_ann28 or bookworms can find her via @peachykeenbookclub on Instagram!