I’ve been a passive viewer of The Bachelor over the years. I’ve literally written hundreds of articles pertaining to the misogynistic, meme-ery of The Bachelor in all of its slut-shaming glory.
However, I have never been more heartbroken by the nightly series that used to fill me with happiness, sincerity and the bitchiness to get through my Wednesday and Thursday arvos. Specifically, when “Can I speak to the manager” Karen and her three kids just happened to walk into my store two minutes before closing time, telling me to give her a refund. No, Karen.
The fabricated love that The Bachelor contestants experience has set my expectations through the roof about what to expect from potential partners in the future. I will accept no less than helicopter rides to private beaches and walking down buildings into the bulging biceps of my man for my future first dates. No more, no less.
I also expect to be fighting for my right to love him, vying for his attention as I slowly spiral into insanity and possessiveness over the one guy who hasn’t called me crazy yet. That former hyperbole actually isn’t an outrageous exaggeration in the gay community, every guy on a dating app is literally chatting up 20 other dudes so it pretty much is The Hunger Games of dating. The gays know how the game works; it’s why we don’t have our own version of The Bachelor in Australia yet.
It is because of this fabrication and planned production behind the scenes that I have fallen out of love with The Bachelor series and by association, the idea of love itself. I think of myself as a fair yet picky person so I find it extremely hard to find someone who ticks all of my boxes. I will take no less; the life I dream of should be the one that I walk for the rest of my life. Yes, that means a talking diamond-studded pony named Ralph and a hot, hunky husband who will go on cute dates with me and choke me when I ask for it.
The whole idea of love presented on The Bachelor has pushed me to want an unrealistically perfect relationship. The Bachelor has turned me into an idealist and opportunist, where I am hesitant to love someone, as something better may come around the corner and sweep me off my two left feet.
The Bachelor also shits me because it has become a broadcast of the hetero-normative agenda, trying to combat my gayness with their lip-locking. I’m just hoping they find the key soon so they have time to breathe. It’s intriguing to me that when getting to know someone that the inside of their mouth is so important. I guess you could bring up the topic of wisdom teeth and fillings but I don’t see how that will be getting anyone a rose. Unless the Bachelor offered you a filling, maybe. I was honestly surprised that the contestants had time to accept roses with all the sexual chemistry combusting on-screen, with the star signs of the two-faced Gemini and hunky Leo.
There has not been one single contestant who has emanated more big Gemini energy than Abbie in Matt’s season of The Bachelor. The girl is literally a two-faced sex doll with the tendency to take things that don’t belong to her and literally throw anyone she needs to under the bus. Then we have the blatantly crazy Emma who has been so passively-aggressively edited by the show’s producers to look like a stage five clinger. All I really knew about her character arc in the show is that she loves Matt unconditionally and would do anything for that man because she likes the smell of him. It’s actually cringe-worthy how badly edited Emma was. We all know that beyond the fact that she likes science and chemistry, there isn’t really much going on up there.
The Bachelor, for me, has become a show that I watch once every two weeks to see which poor, aspiring models remain in the competition, and perve on Matt Agnew’s abs. Just because this is a straight show doesn’t mean I can’t perve too people, digital television is free rein. I just hope that our next season of The Bachelorette with Gogglebox star, Ange, is a little more inviting and warm than this season was.
It’s worth noting there has been one instalment of a homosexual version of The Bachelor – but this was cringeworthy and nothing like gay dating IRL. This is due to a) there was no “u looking” message on Grindr, and b) no one was a creeper sending nudes and asking for feet pics (that we know of). One thing that did ring true though: the winner and the ‘prince charming’ broke up after four months of dating after the show, which is like 25 years in the gay dating world. So I wouldn’t say it was too bad, really. Fingers crossed for Matt and Chelsie though 😊
Original featured image via Herald Sun
