I Kinda Hate Gilmore Girls

Please don't come for me

It’s not clickbait.

It’s true. I kinda maybe really do hate Gilmore Girls.

You know—the cutesy, feel-good comfort show that every single girl seems to be obsessed with? She’s always got it playing in the background on her sticker-covered laptop while she bakes banana muffins, chuckling to herself when Lorelai quips yet another funny remark as she slams down the phone after her mother calls. Or something.

Look, I tried. I really, really tried. I became obsessed for a little bit, watching an episode or two every day while folding laundry during my daughter’s naps. I became immersed in the storyline and desperately wanted to know what would come of Rory and Dean, and especially if and when Lorelai and Luke would finally end up together. Yet, I don’t think I made it through the handful of episodes in season one before I just couldn’t take it anymore.

It was dragging me down.

I understand the hype behind the show. Like I said, I really enjoyed it for a bit. The show is lightheartedly funny, the boy drama induces curiosity, and the quirky relationship between Rory and Lorelai is cute. I’m sure it hits on a lot of hearts that wish they had that kind of connection with their own mothers.

But I don’t think it’s as lighthearted as it seems.

I noticed, after a while, that the story was taking up too much space in my brain—and not in the same sort of way that a wholesome novel might do.

I was obsessed with it.

I got frustrated if my baby woke up in the middle of an episode, and would stew over it until the next free minute I had to turn on the TV. It climbed up my priority list until it shadowed other responsibilities that were far more important. It affected my mood, too, making me grumpy and impatient and a little bit too snappy with my husband.

On the surface, it’s really just a cute show, following the life of a funny little family in a quaint little town. There are morals scattered throughout, but after a while those were harder for me to focus on. The constant sarcasm, the disregard for others, and the unending irrational drama became too heavy. It was really having a negative impact on my mental health.

Now, I know us adults aren’t like toddlers that will immediately pick up on naughty words and behavior from the TV and begin using them left and right. It really shouldn’t be a big deal to watch something like Gilmore Girls—I’m sure a lot of people do just fine.

But I can’t. The persistent tension just chipped away at my emotional stability with every episode. And now it has me wondering how many people are far more impacted by the content they consume than they realize.

We are what we watch.

Or listen to. Or read. Or eat.

What comes in, goes out. Whatever we fill our minds with is going to impact us outwardly in some way, whether it’s our perspective on life, our interactions with people, our emotions, or even our skin. Stress-induced acne, anyone?

I asked my sister, who just finished the show, to tell me everything that happened. Partly so that I wasn’t tempted to watch it again since everything would be spoiled, but also because I wanted to know what happened.

So she loosely explained all the highlights for me (thanks

Kailz

!) and honestly, it made me thankful that I stopped watching. Here’s some of what I can remember (because this was several weeks ago and I have the memory of a goldfish).

(SPOILERS) Throughout the show there is constant infidelity with many different characters. Like, so much cheating, almost to the point of being normalized. Someone even has an affair with their 80-year-old professor??? There’s constant tension between Rory, Lorelai, and Emily. Disrespect, dishonesty, or betrayal find their way into nearly every episode. Certainly the kind of stuff I personally want filling up my soul… not.

The last episode ends with Rory telling Lorelai she’s pregnant with subtle hints at the identity of the father. She’s off to start her career (and probably raise her baby on her own), it’s uncertain if Luke and Lorelai are still together, and everybody seems to be heading out on their own path.

It’s a realistic ending. Still—hearing that left me really, really unsatisfied. I’m not sure if that’s the general consensus, but it sounded like my mother and sister felt the same way. I’m not surprised, but I still was hoping for a storybook ending of reconciliation and happy ever after.

But I get it. It depicts life. Messy, uncertain, and relatable, which is probably why so many enjoy the show. It’s real and raw.

But for me, personally?

I get enough harsh reality from life already—I don’t want more from a tv show.

There’s a reason people need “happily ever after”.

Gilmore Girls may be goofy and cute and do a fine job of showcasing the messiness of life. Maybe it’s even comforting, offering solidarity through characters facing the familiar chaos of life. Yet, I think there is something necessary about the cliché storybook ending that we all know so well. It reminds us that Hope exists, even when we’re drowning in the chaos.

And really, what’s life without Hope?

Hope keeps us going. It gives us something to live for, something to keep our eyes fixed on when all else is crumbling. As a mom, sometimes Hope is the only thing I’m hanging onto at the end of the day, and I comfort myself with the assurance of a new day or that hard seasons don’t last forever.

Life may not always be a fairytale, but we can still choose to hope that it may end like one.

While Gilmore Girls reminds us that life isn’t perfect, it’s the happily ever after’s in our favorite stories that remind us things can work out. Reconciliation, joy, and dreams-come-true are all within reach. When plans change or life takes a plot twist—there is always Hope.

So maybe, next time you find yourself sucked into hardship or relationship drama or a stressful TV show, take a moment to turn your heart away from it all.

Take a breath.

And allow yourself remember that there is always Hope.