Last night I finished watching Normal People, the most moving show on television. Based on the book by Sally Rooney, this show is every single girl in pandemic survival mode’s worst nightmare*. After watching the first few episodes, I became intensely curious about my own first love 8 years ago. I started opening doors to a very locked away place, searching through journals and scrolling through Spotify playlists, going deeper and deeper until I was drowning in a well of my own tears while love songs sent from my ex were blasting over the loud speakers. There I was, 24 years old, baring my soul to someone else, making out in the freezer aisle of Acme, sneaking into fancy pools and skinny dipping, barely recognizing myself. It took me a while to take a shot, slap myself on either cheek, and recover from the emotional whiplash I suffered in between episodes. The most un-bingeable show on the internet.

Normal People so accurately portrays the tenderness, sweetness, and immaturity of your first love, but also captures how intense and powerful everything feels. The two main characters, Connell and Marianne, fall in love in high school and end up going to college together in Dublin, Ireland. The crazy thing is, this couple doesn’t even exchange a few words to each other, but we feel the heat blaring from the screen. The scenes where they are not together are torturous, and there is a physical relief felt when they are on screen together.
Their chemistry (and Connell’s chain) makes this one of the most sexually charged romances of all time**. I said it! There was no one-night stands, no crazy positions, no cheesy lines. Only admissions of fantasies under the sheets, exchanged looks on a dance floor and a slight touching of fingers, mind reading and entanglements. There was so much freedom and excitement, everything felt thrilling and raw, even the way it portrayed safe, consensual sex as beautiful and hot. It also has nudity equity, two words I never thought I would type together. Sally Rooney writes, “the kinds of sexual experiences I write about are almost exclusively [between people] in very intense, committed relationships. Not that the people are married, but they’re really in each other’s lives. That’s what interests me about intimacy.” Throughout the show, Connell and Marianne have other sexual partners, but they both admit that “it’s not like this with other people,” obviously due to their love for each other.
One theme I found particularly interesting in this show is the capacity for emotional intimacy from the male protagonist juxtaposed against his role as a traditional alpha-male. Connell was popular in high school because of his good looks, intelligence, and athletic capabilities. He is raised by a loving mother who early on teaches Connell about the way to treat a woman, and several examples throughout the show exemplify Connell’s character: calling out his friends for trash talking their girlfriends, driving Marianne home after she is assaulted in a club, refusing to comply with Marianne’s advances when she has had too much to drink, defending Marianne against her abusive brother. As a viewer, we are rooting for Connell to sort things out, and it’s tough to see him struggle to sort through his deep emotions for Marianne. First off, in high school, he lacks the emotional maturity to ignore pressure from his friends to do what he wants to do. Secondly, in college, he grows closer to Marianne but cannot bring himself to be vulnerable enough to rely on her. He shows typical avoidant behavior, both physically and emotionally distancing himself from her, and eventually breaking up with her in a cryptic manner. What I find interesting here is that there is no doubt from the viewers that he loves her, so we are left questioning: why can’t he just be with her? The answer is that he is not capable of being vulnerable with another person this way, and Marianne may not be either. Love is not enough to sustain their relationship.
Later on, we see Connell grapple with depression following the suicide of one of his male friends. We see his high school friends, who previously acted as jocks and party types, gathered around a table to support each other. Back at university, Connell’s male best friend begins to worry about him and advises him to seek therapy. To me, this was a very important scene (almost as important as nudity equity), as it yet again gives an example so rarely shown in the media: straight males discussing the merit of professional therapy to treat clinical depression. Connell and his friend seem to have an easy going and caring relationship, and the suggestion is delicate, without any taboos or drama. If men cannot access the most vulnerable parts of themselves, how will they ever open themselves up to feeling joy and happiness and connection? Connell learns how to open up to Marianne by talking to her about his depression at the suggestion of his therapist, ultimately leading to a closer friendship and eventual romantic rumspringa. This time, Connell invites Marianne fully into his life.
Throughout it all, what I find interesting is Connell’s capacity for self-reflection. Throughout the years he is able to see things he’d done wrong, communicate them to Marianne, and ask for forgiveness. From the perspective of being honest and communicating with each other, they are able to maintain a friendship, which I find to be rare in the case of failed romantic relationships. Self-reflection and growth are difficult to be maintained at the same pace as someone else, which is why the twists and turns that Marianne and Connell take are so interesting to me.
Many people have criticized the end of the show. I loved it, because we see the characters have healed. Marianne finds a support system of people who love her for who she is and she ceases self-destructive behavior. Connell is able to be in a loving relationship where he feels safe to take risks and go outside his comfort zone.
At every turn, I was expecting to see a portrayal of “good” or “bad” behavior displayed in relationships - guy cheats on girl, girl is needy, etc. However, what we see here is just two decent people trying to love each other but not knowing how. We have all been there. We all want to be understood and feel connection to others. But love doesn’t always work out that way, and that doesn’t mean the tenderness, sweetness, or joy are wasted. One of my favorite things Glennon Doyle said is, “Reject the ridiculous idea that the only successful love is love that lasts forever in its original form. Love is successful if it grew you and deepened you and widened you and made you more tender and wise.” Cheers to Marianne and Connell who have let me embrace the cheesiest, most whimsical romantic side of myself this pandemic.
*Praise to the universe almighty, God, the Twelve Apostles, Buddha, all the deities in India, I have not contacted any exes through this pandemic nor the viewing of this show.
**The actor who plays Connell is 24.
More Media:

For those begging for more, please follow @connellschain for more hot Connell content