Ladies Loving Ladies in Paradise

So here’s a dirty little secret: I sometimes watch “The Bachelor” franchise. That means I sometimes watch “The Bachelor,” “The Bachelorette” and “Bachelor in Paradise.” I say sometimes because it’s on the television in my house and I’m on the couch in front of said television while it is playing, but I’m not always watching that closely because my women’s studies minor makes me diametrically opposed to any reality show that presents women as shiny baubles for men to choose from. Not to throw anyone under the bus - cough, my wife, cough - but certain people in my household have watched it since Season 1 and, well, happy wife, happy life. (Yes, I know, that’s a terrible, horrible phrase but also why wouldn’t you want to make your wife happy and lead a happy life together?) Still, I will admit that it’s also sometimes fun to watch how ridiculous The Straights are when they fight and cry and stab each other in the back.

This is a long and winding way of saying I know all about Demi Burnett and Kristian Haggerty, a.k.a. The First Same-Sex Couple in American Bachelor franchise history. And, I’ll admit it, I did not hate it. I mean, I genuinely hate the show, its premise and all of its weird patriarchal overtones. But of all of the shows, “Bachelor in Paradise” is the most fun because it’s just a bunch of good-looking ex-Bachelor/Bachelorette contestants getting drunk on the beach and trying to hook up and pretending that any of it matters.

But, weirdly enough, this season of “Bachelor in Paradise” did matter - and it mattered because of Demi and Kristian. Was it milked for all of its will she/won’t she/won’t the other she melodrama? Absolutely. But it was still a real, if highly edited, depiction of what it looks like when two women fall in love, particularly if at least one of the women has not been out before. Yes, yes it was.

Demi started the season as just a free-wheeling and unvarnished spirit who had an immediate “connection” (in Bachelor Nation lingo) with some guy named Derek who looks like the love child of John Krasinski and Zachary Levi. But then, she needed to find “clarity” (another Bachelor Nation word) because she still had feelings for a real-world someone back home. And that real-world someone happened to be a woman. (Cue gasp!) In an unprecedented move, they then brought said woman, Kristian, to the beach even though she was not a part of the Bachelor universe. And then Demi had to decide between Derek and Kristian.

Now if that is all they showed of Demi’s coming out story, it would have pretty much sucked because it would just be a showcase for the worst misconceptions bisexual people - that they are indecisive flip-floppers and opportunistic sexual omnivores.

But, good news, after Demi chose Kristian, they kept showing their relationship. They let the two of them stay on the beach together among all the horny heterosexuals. And not only did we get to see their relationship bloom, but we also saw the very real and very relatable worries for LGBTQ people. What will people think if we hold hands in public? How will people react if we kiss? Can I handle it if people stare? What if people don’t accept us?

These are actual anxieties that many LGBTQ people feel, particularly in regards to being out in public or in a new relationship. So to see it shown in such a mainstream and heteronormative setting like The Bachelor franchise is quite something. And, darn it, if I wasn’t rooting for these ladies to get engaged at the end because I AM ONLY HUMAN, OK.



And get engaged they did, twice. And it was lovely.



And, judging by their after-the-show engagement party, these two have a great sense of humor about the whole thing. Like, their engagement cake actually read: “This won’t be the only thing you’ll be eating tonight.” Is it OK to say I kind of love them? Because I kind of love them.

Look, if the absolutely straightest show on television can give millions of viewers a relatively nuanced look at a same-sex relationship week after week, well, what else can we call that but progress? Mazel tov, ladies.

p.s. Dearest, I love you. I’m sorry, I hope those bus tires didn’t hurt too much.