I have a confession: I watch the Bachelor/ette. I had always wanted to, so when I heard a new season was starting, I decided to try it. Sitting on the couch that first night, my eyes ballooned as women spewed sharp whispers as another limo of women arrived, and I shook my head as one wasted woman nearly collapsed. When my dad commented on the “quality programs” I watched, I smiled at the floor but did not drop the show. Soon I was discussing it with a friend. I even began telling other friends about it despite their ever-rolling eyes and pursed lips. And when the season ended, I immediately Googled when the next one would begin.

I had plunged headfirst into the world of private helicopter rides, weekly red-carpet dresses, and creeks of running mascara. I had immersed myself in the sea of soul-mate-seekers and believers in love at first sight. I had officially become … an American.

But why am I so hooked?

I am so hooked partially because the show’s quick gratification aligns so perfectly with American culture. The bachelor/ette has a mere two months, two artificial months of cocktail parties, celebrities, and world travel, to choose a partner for life. 

We Americans want what we want, and we want it now. We rush hungrily to drive-thrus to grab our meal. We wait in line overnight so we can buy that new iPhone we have been waiting for the moment it is released. We complain when we have no service with which to text and receive an immediate response.

Except that’s not me. I don’t mind waiting to get food. I don’t want a new phone. And most important, I would rather talk face-to-face than get an immediate reply electronically. Yes, I’m as guilty as the next person when it comes to my constant use of modern technology. But I wish I weren’t. Sappy as it sounds, I want to live in the moment and to build true connections, and I believe that is done in person. To me, face-to-face interaction is the closest one can get to escaping all of life’s distractions and hiding places. These beliefs affect what I enjoy doing. I love both camping and running because they make me leave technology and responsibilities behind and find pleasure and entertainment in the sights and people around me. And I love simply walking home with my two best friends; we don’t check our phones; we just talk.

It is because I value living in the moment and genuine bonds–in a world of (both literal and figurative) screens–that I can forgive myself for loving the Bachelor/ette. The show, as much as it is about desire and drama, fast fulfillment and friction, is also about finding the real ties that I so cherish. Watching the show, I am reminded that others–from the show’s contestants to its viewers to just people in general–are also searching for the same authentic relations that I am, and that my country is not as shallow as it so often seems–and it comforts me.
Leave it to me to get all emotional and philosophical about the Bachelor/ette. But what can I say? I understand why some viewers dress up in plaid shirts and cowboy hats and eat corn-themed food because that season’s bachelor was a corn farmer. Well, maybe I don’t understand that, but I understand the show’s viewers as a whole. Yet sometimes when I watch, I still cringe and look away. I don’t want to admit I relate to the shallow side of American culture. But I do. Yet that universal longing for genuine connections also always draws me back. So, ultimately, as much as I laugh at myself and kick myself for it sometimes, I keep watching. Like I have said, I am hooked.