I’ve watched every season of The Bachelor, give or take a few somewhere in the middle when I thought I’d get into foreign films or read some books instead. That clearly didn’t stick, and for at least the last five consecutive seasons I’ve curled up every Monday it’s aired with a glass (OK, bottle) of wine to watch these groups of “normal” people try to find love.
At their core, both The Bachelor and Love are obsessed with the idea of being with a particular someone—not because you really want to but because you think you should. The concept is built into The Bachelor. If the show doesn’t end with a proposal, no one is America’s sweetheart, and the rejected parties have to go back to selling software or being a dental hygienist—or worse yet go on Bachelor in Paradise to reenter the cycle of looking for love on national television. Meanwhile the protagonists of Love, both scorned by partners in the recent past, think that by being attached to someone, the personal issues they’re (to varying degrees) ignoring will be fixed. But really, all of these people just need to be by themselves.
