Guilty as Charged: My Love-Hate Affair with Reality TV | On Tour With the Kid

I honestly feel a bit embarrassed admitting this. I like to think of myself as a smart woman. I make good decisions at work every day, and I’ve raised a daughter who values herself and treats others with kindness and empathy. Even though I hold those values close and promise myself every year that I won’t get drawn in, here I am, sitting in front of the TV, watching MAFS again. I hate-watch it, but I still watch.

It’s not the only reality show I love. Survivor is a favourite, The Block and most of the Housewives franchise. Even when there is a bit of drama, which is why you keep watching, I can tell myself in the first two cases, they are ending up with money and skills they can use elsewhere, so the juice is probably worth the squeeze.

With the Housewives, I can watch people yell and flip tables, knowing that none of them actually needs to be there. If it ever got too much, they could just walk away, and they’d still be fine. Sometimes it’s funny to see how money and privilege can make people lose touch with reality. But every now and then, you get a real moment that shows money doesn’t protect you from heartbreak, loss, or the problems everyone faces. If your child is struggling or your relationship is falling apart, money might give you more options, but it doesn’t make you immune.

Then there are the dating shows. I never really got into The Bachelor or any show where people date a bunch of others at once. It’s not a moral thing, it’s just that, as someone with ADHD who’s a bit introverted, even watching all that small talk and constant socialising makes me want to throw up in my handbag.

Love is Blind, and MAFS have always felt a bit like nature documentaries to me. I’ve never been completely convinced by the idea of marriage. It’s great when it works, but awful when it doesn’t. I also think two adults can love each other, live in separate homes, and never need to involve the law or government in their relationship.

Watching from that perspective, I always wonder what people hope to get out of it. Seeing a 26-year-old cry on camera before even meeting their match, saying it’s their last chance, makes me want to tell them to go on a Contiki tour or pick up a new hobby. Sometimes I want to hand out a book of recommendations or suggest talking to a psychologist.

And don’t get me started on kids introducing their parents to total strangers —just no. Even if you’re looking for love, by now you have to know you’re more likely to leave with emotional scars and a damaged reputation than to find ‘the one.’

Now I’m going for a walk, hoping I have the good sense not to watch and scream at the TV, but to listen to the recaps instead. For those looking for recommendations, I love Abbie Chatfield’s MAFS recaps, and if you are watching Love is Blind US, there is a podcast called Shut the **** up Nick Lechey that regularly has me crying with laughter in the car. You’re welcome.