I see this proclamation going a few ways, and none of them really seem to be in my favor because betches love The Bachelor. Regardless, I need to put this opinion out there because I see way too much hype of girls counting down the minutes until the next episode, betches making predictions on which contestant is getting the axe next, and religiously watching the drama unfold as girls are drunk off cheap white wine and jealousy. I’m going to yell it rom the mountaintops: we all know this show sucks, right?
It’s the twenty first century and reality television is an incredibly loose term which now just means those featured don’t memorize lines, but everything else is pretty much staged. The house, the storyline, what they do during the day, the coincidence that conflicting personalities live together, the fact that there is no television, cell phones, or internet, etc – all pre-planned by producers. The only reality is that The Bachelor is no different from a soap opera, other than the fact that no one featured has successful acting experience. The fake sense of reality television is fine for shows with inhabitants living together and hooking up like The Jersey Shore, and even competitive shows where you’re busting your ass for money like MTV: The Challenge. But now you’re trying to put the false reality label on falling in love. Nicholas Sparks would be ashamed.
There are two reasons someone willing becomes a contestant on The Bachelor. They are either self serving and using the show to get their name out there to be famous (kudos), or they’re some degree of bat shit. Only two choices. For the latter, the show finds girls that are needy, jealous, desperate, or delusional enough to honestly think they have a chance at true love in a micromanaged house filled with estrogen and camera crews.
Producers set up scenarios that will trigger certain contestants. Sarah is terrified of swimming? Let’s make their date snorkeling. Jackie hates animals? Playing with monkeys it is. Beth hates water AND animals? Let’s have them swim with sharks. They get sent on romantic getaways where they climb mountains with breathtaking views, sip wine on white sand beaches, and relax in a rose pedal filled jacuzzi to be alone and talk on a more intimate level, all with two camera men, a sound guy, and producer quietly staring at them…True Panty Dropper.
You watch these women go nuts over a guy who is incredibly gorgeous but kind of a dud for the most part. Most likely his personality doesn’t get to show because he’s busy calculating what he’s allowed to say without spoiling an entire show, and maybe they’re only falling in love because over the past month they’ve only had to spend a combined three hours with the guy? In all honesty, the guy could be Shrek, but if fifteen other women are fighting for his attention and affection, you instinctually become all the more interested in obtaining him.
Towards the end when the L word and futures start getting thrown around is the scariest part to watch as a normal, level headed woman. “I’m falling in love with this man. I see myself marrying this man. I would honestly love nothing more than having children with this man.” Woah, jigga-what? Two Honda and a Little Caesars pizza commercial ago he was alone in the couples suite with another girl getting down and dirty. And you’re about to have stretch marks and kankles in his honor? Keep your ovaries in your pants there, chief. You don’t know if he snores, you don’t know if he’ll leave the seat up after he pees, you don’t know how fucking dramatic he gets when he has a cold, how likely he is to get a stupid haircut, or if he’ll kill the spiders for you. But you do know he’ll sleep with three girls in three nights and tell more than one girl he’s in love with them in the same day. Pump the brakes on the crazy train, okay?
I can’t hate The Bachelor himself, because any sane guy that was thrown a bone and given the opportunity to date twenty girls at once would do it. He gets to bang three different girls in three different nights, and every single one of them goes to the confessional to pour their heart out for how in love they are with this man, and how they truly believe the feeling are mutual. He gets to cut them out of his life (aka send them home) if they aren’t comfortable moving across the country to be with him, and they’re expected to be totally fine living like modern day sister wives while he decides which woman his mom will like best.
Say you get to the end, and you’re the one standing there as he kneels down with a fat diamond ring. Not only do you have to wrap your head around the idea that he liked another girl at the same time to ALMOST propose to her too (way to feel special right?), you also have to decide if you think he’s proposing to you because he wants to, or because that’s what is expected at the end of the show…
Some girls get it, they watch it out of sheer entertainment for how ridiculous and unnatural the entire thing is. But there there are some girls, the ones we should be worried about, that find it romantic. They swoon over the idea of beating out fifteen other women for the affection of one guy, and dream of the day they’ll get to live a similar fate. While the rest of us obsess over hating it, and hating the people that love it, we realize The Bachelor has won either way. It has manipulated the entire population to want to talk about it, whether we’re obsessed with seeing who gets sent home next, or shaming all the viewers that religiously watch it.
I’m not against the show. Hell, you get to be on television, live (or re-live) an adult version of a sorority house, drink for free, and take trips to exotic places. What is not to love about that? What I can’t fathom is the girls WATCHING the show THINKING this is romantic and something to aim for. The girls actually on the show are a lost cause. That ship has sailed and they’ll find out on a tearful van ride to the airport that this probably wasn’t the right way to go about falling in love. But the girls watching, the younger generations that absorb this like a sponge – they should know that besides Ryan Gosling and Chris Hemsworth, you should never have to convince a guy to have feelings for and fall in love with you, especially while surrounded by sixteen other women doing the same thing.
There’s nothing romantic about spilling your heart out to a guy, having him say “yeah I feel the same way” and then watching him turn around and say the same thing to every other girl because it’s hella awkward if he doesn’t. For entertainment purposes, this show is an A+ because it makes the rest of us females feel incredibly sane for not being dumb or desperate enough to think this is true love. But as a leading example and model for how we should fall in love? Over a betch's dead body would she allow a man to play her and a bunch of other women and still leave the mansion in one piece.
That being said, this doesn't mean we're going to stop recapping and making fun of this shit because it's hilarious.