Very little surprises me as someone who has been watching reality TV since childhood. A lot can bore or anger me, however. “Love Is Blind” season eight accomplishes both in the fourth episode when Devin reacts negatively to Brittany opening up about her bisexuality. I nearly rolled my eyes out of their sockets when he squirmed at her vulnerability and said he needed time to “process” the fact she had romantic experiences with women.
The exchange was rocky from the start, it’s worth noting, with Brittany confessing she’d never marry a woman despite being attracted to women, but it veered so far from anything meaningful that you can’t help but wish the franchise had been wiser and left it out. Shocking no one, Devin and Brittany decided to part ways by their next pod date.
Dating shows are, by definition, messy, and I’m a slut for all the cringy, shady, weird, and awkward moments that come from throwing strangers together with the instruction to fall in love. But these casts are formulaically chosen with specificity, and you’d expect contestants to disclose the information we’re seeing unfold during audition tapes and the multiple rounds of interviews required to be put on air. So, although I believe Devin has every right to choose not to date a bisexual person, that narrative was also a choice by the omnipotent powers of production.
Brittany’s internal struggle with her bisexuality would have been far more compelling to watch alongside a supportive straight partner who’s an ally of the community. She even says at one point, “I’m not gonna lie, it woulda been very comforting to hear, ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter.'” As a viewer, it’s hard not to feel the same way. On the one hand, these themes are important to explore, but do we have to stomp out the rare sign of queerness on a straight show with ignorance?
As a gay man, my take might be biased, but it’s not unfounded. Let me remind you: We’ve been there, done that. In the first season of “Love Is Blind,” Carlton shared that he was bi and faced an even more aggressive rejection from his match. It’s poetic that this season is based in Minneapolis, as Devin perfectly demonstrated the “Minnesota nice” way of perpetuating prejudice. But as a Twin Cities resident myself, I can confidently say it’s not reflective of the inclusive culture here.
Rather than come full circle over eight seasons to create a safe space for bisexuality, “Love is Blind” has chosen to cement its stigma instead of challenging it in a way that allows more stories to be told. It might not have been wrong for Devin to be honest with Brittany, but I don’t blame queer viewers who feel let down and exhausted by the outcome yet again. It’s like we’ve been running on a hamster wheel that will never let us advance to the next stage in representation.
Coming-out stories are great, but as queer people step into the shoes of adults who love themselves, we deserve to see examples of that beyond our own. (Let’s also put aside the fact that we’ve yet to see a queer season of the show, which makes the little negative visibility feel even more hostile.)
It’s an archaic storyline during an absolutely horrible time for the LGBTQ+ community.
The reality TV industry stands on a legacy of LGBTQ+ personalities and dating shows that have broken ground on all aspects of identity. I remember seeing “Next” as a kid in the early 2000s and thinking how revolutionary it was that it featured queer episodes. How much hope and excitement it gave me. Mind you, this was a dating show where contestants could decide if they were interested in their matches at first sight. “Love is Blind,” of course, is the opposite spin with a much higher budget, but it says a lot that it has done less to promote acceptance than its antithesis filmed nearly two decades before. Brittany and Devin’s scene feels like a ghost of boomers’ past, an archaic storyline during an absolutely horrible time for the LGBTQ+ community.
Most zillennials, queer or straight alike, are wise enough to know there are just as many happy endings for every sad one. Unfortunately, that doesn’t protect us from our own insecurities. It was off-putting to watch Devin reinforce Brittany’s internalized homophobia and have that be the end of it. Queer people have already reinvented our own wheels with our own shows. But if you’re profiting from our viewership, there better not be any cracks in your support of equality.
Jamie Valentino is a Colombian-born freelance journalist and romance columnist published in the Chicago Tribune, the Houston Chronicle, Men’s Journal, Reader’s Digest UK, Vice, and more. Jamie has worked as a travel correspondent, covering the 2022 World Cup from Argentina, siesta culture in Barcelona, and the underground nightlife scene in Milan.
