If you spent this summer spiraling with The Summer I Turned Pretty, chances are you had strong feelings about Belly’s choice between Conrad and Jeremiah. While the fandom was busy fighting over ships, season three gave us something more complicated: a front-row seat to how Belly and Jeremiah’s love story quietly slipped into codependency.
“Jeremiah and Belly’s relationship is primarily codependent, rooted in a shared desire to avoid major conflict rather than confront difficult emotions, like the pain that comes from major loss and grief,” says Deborah Robbins, a therapist focused on relationships and attachment.
As TikToker and TSITP fan Eva Sanchez puts it, “I think Belly and Jeremiah have genuine love and care for one another, but they almost feel like they have to be together because of their grief.” This avoidance leaves Jeremiah’s deeper wounds unaddressed — his jealousy and resentment toward Conrad that existed long before Belly. Jere is constantly chasing his father’s approval, trying to disprove the idea that he’s the lazy, careless brother. Belly becomes entangled in these dynamics by dismissing her own feelings, just as Jeremiah does with his.
I spoke with relationship experts and TSITP superfans to unpack Belly and Jeremiah’s messy love story — and how it can mirror real-life relationships.
Are Belly And Jeremiah Codependent?
Part of what intensifies this is timing. “By the time Conrad and Belly have prom and break up and Conrad goes missing, it is a month and a half later,” TSITP fan and content creator Makayla Franks recounts to Betches. “And the events of season three happen over one week. Then we add in Susannah passing away — that was less than a month ago. Belly and Jeremiah start dating less than a month later.” In other words, imagine starting a new relationship when you’re still drafting your mom’s eulogy. Their bond never has space to breathe; it’s born in a pressure cooker of grief and unresolved emotions. Sanchez adds, “In her head, she’s lost Susannah and Conrad, and she rationalizes that maybe the only way she won’t lose Jeremiah is by being with him, but they get lost in each other and become codependent.”
Rather than confront these feelings, Jeremiah suppresses them — until they resurface as betrayal when he cheats on Belly. Because nothing says “perfect boyfriend” like a little infidelity. Belly mirrors his coping style, repressing her own pain and refusing to fully acknowledge the cheating. Robbins notes that this cycle of denial pushes them deeper into fantasy: “Instead of confronting their personal issues, they escape into a shared fantasy of what their relationship could be — a happily married one.” By using each other as emotional band-aids, they bypass the individual healing they both desperately need.
Their relationship wasn’t just about teenage passion — it became a mirror for the ways young women can lose themselves in caretaking, compromise, and craving validation. With Jeremiah, Belly’s sense of identity and decision-making start to revolve around his emotions. “She gives up pieces of herself to give him what he wants (letting go of Paris and even sacrificing her own desires for the wedding), treating his security as though it defines her value,” says TikToker Katelyn Marrero (AKA, owner of the “I have a lot to say about Conrad Fisher” account).
Franks gives me a clear example: “In season 3 episode 1, you can see Belly go tell Jeremiah the good news about Paris, but she hesitated when Jeremiah was upset about having to take an extra semester… Belly wants to tell Jeremiah something, but doesn’t because she wants to shield him from the truth.” Basically, she’s walking on eggshells when she should be eating a croissant in Paris. This pattern repeats until it peaks in Belly’s admission: “I don’t know where I end and where you began.” As Sanchez observes, “In the last episode, Jeremiah also says having Belly is like having his mom there. Both of them are clinging to each other and neglecting the fact that life still happens outside of their relationship.”
Meghan Witthaus, who has also been posting about TSITP on TikTok, points out something Cleveland Castillo tells Conrad in season one while teaching him sailing knots: “You can’t be good with someone else until you’re good with yourself.” It’s this disconnect that exposes the cracks in Belly and Jeremiah’s relationship. Jeremiah thrives on playing the perfect boyfriend, while Belly clings to the feeling of being wanted and needed. As Meghan explains to me, “She clings onto this feeling of being chosen rather than processing how it felt to lose Jere, Conrad, and Susannah so close together.”
The problem is that while they look picture-perfect on the surface, their relationship lacks authentic intimacy. Instead of being honest about their differing values and goals, they silently agree to prioritize validation over truth. Belly often folds first: giving up Paris, withholding information, or self-abandoning to avoid conflict. Conflict doesn’t have to define a relationship, but a healthy one can withstand it with honesty and accountability. Jeremiah and Belly, by contrast, shrink from it.
Being “chosen” can feel intoxicating, but when your value hinges on someone else’s approval, you end up falling in love with the idea of each other rather than the reality. That’s why their love looks so fragile — it’s built on compromise and avoidance rather than growth. Castillo’s words make it clear both Belly and Jeremiah deserve the chance to figure out who they want to be before tying their identities to someone else.
Is Belly’s Relationship With Conrad “Healthier”?
With Conrad, things are completely different. Their relationship makes space for honesty and individuality. Belly isn’t afraid to push back, call him out, or stand her ground. She doesn’t silence herself to keep Conrad comfortable — and he never expects her to. “His love reveals her strengths rather than diminishing them,” Marrero says. “Together they stretch one another toward maturity.”
That balance shows up in small ways, too. “You can see it in their body language where they both take care of each other,” Franks says. “Belly doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. They can say the hard stuff and share their deepest secrets. When she was with him, she didn’t have to compromise her true desires. It’s more of a 50/50 relationship, where Belly and Jeremiah’s was like a 70/30.”
Love with Conrad doesn’t erase Belly — it refines her. With Jeremiah, it consumes her. Or, as Franks puts it bluntly: “I don’t think Belly was truly happy with Jeremiah.”
And while all of this might feel like heightened YA drama, Robbins reminds me it’s also a dynamic worth paying attention to IRL. Codependency doesn’t always look like giving up Paris for your boyfriend — it often shows up in subtle ways. One major red flag, she says, is when you find yourself constantly managing your partner’s emotions: “Maybe you make excuses, rescue them, or make it easy for them to avoid their problematic behavior.” Another sign? Regularly ignoring your own feelings and sacrificing your needs to keep the peace.
Think of an anxious partner who constantly asks, “Are you mad at me?” and spirals without reassurance, or someone with a drinking problem whose partner quietly counts their drinks and picks up the pieces. In both cases, the relationship becomes less about love and more about damage control. Basically, if dating your boyfriend feels like babysitting a toddler with better biceps, that’s not romance —it’s codependency.
What lesson do Belly and Jeremiah offer us? Love should be about growth, truth, and accountability — not becoming your partner’s emotional babysitter.
