I think you should be watching love island

The most exciting part about Love Island for me was talking to people about Love Island.

In times of depression, people look for an outlet. Love, partying, entertainment.

Since "the dating show's" 1965 debut, reality dating shows have been a special look into the lives of modern society and its dating pool.

As the United States tumbles into weekly turmoil, this summer highlighted the need for Love Island like never before.

Love Island stands as a genuine(ish) reflection of our current times. The stars are just like us.

Reality dating shows have gone international, short-form, in mansions, on yachts, and on islands. It's been the best and worst of times, and this year especially, Love Island highlighted just how needy the average American is.

60 years of an evolving, changing society, details about how, why, and who we connect to, how we’ve changed over the years, and how we search for love, all available in 60 minutes or less. The dating world you watch in the 70's vs the early 2000's compared to today all provide different insights on the dating market, the individual, and the audiences of their times.

Seemingly nobodies, except sometimes for the semi-famous model/influencer, fly to Fiji for a summer of no social media, no dating apps, no work, to compete for love, money (100k split by the winning couple), and if played properly, even the losing islanders get the gift of friendship, community (and fame).

While the product placement and ad pushes can feel overwhelming at times, the production of Love Island USA brings a summer of opportunity to islanders and to Fiji's film industry. They employ international and local crew, and Fiji, also used by Survivor, in allowing it has given the locals much needed industry opportunities.

Productions in Fiji have to employ a certain number of locals, provide hands-on experience, and utilize film students from Fiji’s National University as interns. Building a mutually beneficial production economy during filming season, the show also brings an important number of eyes to Fiji's environment. A beautiful place, as shown by the gorgeous exterior shots, that is being transformed by climate change.

To educate and help create plans on how production will operate once in Fiji, the Mamanuca Environment Society holds meetings with production teams ahead of shooting. They cultivate a "leave it better than you found it" approach, much needed across the entertainment industry.

Whether you liked it or not, Love Island USA season 8 served as a reflection of our time.

What is usually numbness or distraction, served this year as a conversation starter and community building opportunity.

I wasn’t watching because I wanted to disappear and binge-watch the lives of perfect people; I wasn’t watching because I cared that much about who would end up with who, at least not at first.

Eventually, I did buy into the lives of these islanders, in what I’d affectionately called anthropological prison, and became joyously curious as to what they would make of the summer.

But what I enjoyed most of all were the watch parties. The bar nights, themed dance parties, and every other event that could be juiced out of everyone watching the same thing together. I loved persuading the bartender to let us stream it on the TV (a fun combo during FIFA in the States). I loved striking up conversations with new friends; I loved dissecting and comparing our dating horror stories with the lives of the islanders.

Watch parties turned to weekly catch-ups with friends and laughing fits at whatever sound bite was trending that week. If the thing that sparks that is Love Island, who am I to blame the contestants and viewers who needed this?

Reality TV is a touchy topic for me. I can never really form a solid opinion, and I doubt we’ll know the complete way it’s transformed our generation's brain for a while.

Some are better than others.

The reality shows I've subjected my mind to include MTV's Are you the one, Bad Girls Club, 1 1/2 seasons of Perfect Match (one of the many Netflix shows I genuinely think needs to be stopped), and so many more I can’t name them all. Lately, Love Island has been the most enjoyable.

To all the intellects that believe themselves above reality TV, or those that have a certain twang of anger that tells you “people can gather for this but not show up when it matters”, I challenge you to connect with the people you meet when you watch.

Beyond getting their Instagrams or contact info, invite them out, check in on them, create opportunities for the community you build watching Love Island every week, and carry it even after the sun tans go away.

Find a new excuse to meet every week, talk, connect. Find ways to help each other through the difficulties facing us today. Who knows, you could find your next roommate, a new volunteer buddy, or just a friendly neighbor. It doesn’t matter how it starts, as long as it continues.

We crave authenticity, we crave humanity, we crave connection, and if Love Island has to be the vehicle through which these needs arrive to our culture, then who am I to judge?

If you ignore its brainwashing capabilities, resist the urge to post your opinion online, and use it as the entertaining tool that it is, you will discover the joys of indulging in good reality TV.

Watch responsibly.

Deeper than sex: we need to talk about intimacy.

When you hear the words intimacy and desire, what do you think of? In many cases, people tend to associate these words with sex: sexual desire, sexual intimacy. But what happens when we start to reshape the way we think about these words?

Dating and relationships are complex. There's a wide range of emotions and feelings that occur, and as we’re evolving in the realm of dating, we more often than not end up viewing certain aspects of romantic relationships through a sexual, or what I will call a pornographic, lens. Now, when I use the term pornographic, I’m not only referring to sex. Feminist and poet Audre Lorde talks about this idea of the pornographic in her essay “Uses of the erotic: The erotic as Power,” where she describes pornography as sensation without feeling, in contrast to her definition of the erotic, which also holds deeper meaning than just sexual pleasure. The erotic is described as a spiritual and political source of power and creativity that connects us to deeper meaning. Lorde speaks of this power of the erotic in terms of how women in particular can use it to reclaim power and challenge systems that oppress or view them through a pornographic lens.

 So with the erotic vs. the pornographic in mind, we can bring it back to the context of modern dating. I argue that modern dating culture often blurs the line between the pornographic and the erotic, prioritizing instant attraction over the slow intimacy through which many women actually experience desire. 

Modern dating culture tends to revolve around instant chemistry or physical attraction. There's a lot of emphasis on “the spark”, on knowing right away if something is there. But for many women, desire does not emerge from immediacy, and instead grows through intimacy, such as actively being listened to, feeling emotionally safe, or even recognition that a person actually sees you. Desire in this sense is something that develops over time. This becomes clear when I hear people talk about the “honeymoon phase” in relationships, which is described as a blissful, carefree period in the early stages of a couple’s relationship, and then as the relationship progresses and months turn into years, what once was an argument-free connection turns into arguments here and there. Oftentimes, it can feel like something's drastically changed in the relationship; there was an immense amount of “passion” and “spark” in the beginning, and now it seems it's gone, often causing burnout early on.

But most of the time, the reality is that there is no inherent problem. Even in platonic relationships, the honeymoon phase exists. Things feel new and exciting at first, and then they don't. However, that doesn’t mean the relationship has worsened or is doomed; it just means you’ve developed with this person to learn your differences as opposed to just your similarities. This is where the confusion between the pornographic and the erotic starts to matter more. The beginning of a relationship can sometimes align with what Lorde would call the pornographic, not because it's shallow but because it's based in immediacy and intensity. There is excitement in being wanted quickly, in feeling an instant connection, which isn’t a bad thing, but can often expose what we project onto other people. What we fantasize someone to be vs. who they actually are.

As things develop and that intensity starts to lessen, intimacy becomes less about constant excitement and more about consistency and actually knowing each other. That shift can feel like something is missing or wrong if we’ve been taught that desire is supposed to feel intense all the time, but what’s actually happening is that a different kind of desire is forming, one that’s closer to what Lorde describes as the erotic. The erotic is more about depth, and for many women, it is within the erotic that desire actually grows. The problem is that modern dating culture doesn't always make space for that kind of desire. With dating apps, social media, and even the way people talk about attraction, there's a lot of pressure to decide quickly. You’re supposed to know right away if you’re into someone, and if you don’t feel that immediate spark, you assume it's not worth pursuing.

This doesn’t mean hookup culture or casual sex are inherently shallow or wrong, as they can be really important spaces for exploration and autonomy; the issue is more about what tends to get emphasized. Both immediacy and slowness can be meaningful in different ways. When immediacy becomes the main way we measure attraction, though, other ways of experiencing desire start to get overlooked. Because of that, desire often gets misread or simplified to one thing. 

Thinking through Lorde’s idea of the erotic offers a different way of approaching modern dating culture. It makes room for desire to be multifaceted. This isn’t about rejecting sex, early attraction, or the excitement of something new, but rather an expansion on how we define intimacy and desire. When we reshape the way we think of these words, we realize that not everything meaningful has to start with a spark, and that desire can take different forms, some of which take time to unfold.