Words by Za’Nya Davis
It starts inside a villa on an island in Fiji. Attractive, sun-kissed strangers and annoyingly repetitive phrasing. Before you know it, you’re in bed before 9 p.m. every night, snack in hand, emotionally invested in the love lives of strangers. Biting at your fingers at getting the choice to vote on who gets to stay, who should be “dumped” from the island, and who should “couple up” with whom. The “Love Island” audience isn’t just an audience; they are decision-makers.
Contestants stuck on an island in isolation from the public with no access to their personal devices and a restricted concept of time to navigate their relationships as viewers take their thoughts about the islanders to social media. Topics such as, why so and so deserves to leave “our” Island. Social media has become a playground for viewers to unite and dissect the intentionality behind conversations and the authenticity and attractiveness of a couple, to post their unfiltered opinions of people they’ve never met.
The lines of entertainment and inclusion have become blurred. Though “Love Island” is perceived to be a reality dating series, for many it has become an emotional investment with stakes that are much higher outside of the Fiji villa. Contestants return home, reclaim their devices, only to face an overwhelming amount of criticism about their character, physical appearance and overall value to the show’s experience via social media. These incidents have raised concerns about the psychological effects of fame and public opinion. Behind the edited footage stand real people.
Three former “Love Island” contestants have taken their own lives between 2018 and 2020. One was former host Caroline Flack, who already struggled with mental health issues but continued to receive unwelcomed scrutiny while in the midst of a legal battle. Former contestants Sophie Gradon and Mike Thalassitis, from Seasons 2 and 3 of Love Island UK, also died by suicide after enduring cyberbullying and public dismantling. Each public death sparked public grief. These were not only tragedies but major examples of the negative impact social media can have. Still, viewers defend their online behavior by saying the contestants “knew what they signed up for” and should expect the truth, positive or negative. But consenting to appear on television does not mean these individuals are to expect cruelty or hatred with open arms. The line between audience input and audience entitlement has been crossed, and for viewers of shows that encourage public input, it has seemed to be difficult for viewers to provide any input with compassion and empathy for those involved.
As loyal viewers of our favorite television shows, it’s natural to form emotional attachments to contestants, dissecting their every word and action, even though we’ve never met them. This is the premise of parasocial relationships. They feel genuine and authentic, but they’re always one-sided. We judge them, cheer them on and grieve for them as if they’re our real friends. But when the line between emotional attachment and entitlement is crossed, the result is often harm to someone who didn’t know they were in a relationship with us. Many viewers feel that contributing to a person’s fame means we get to tell them about themselves.
It is easily forgotten when watching reality TV that those involved are not characters. They’re also human, and their lives continue even after the show is over.
While “Love Island” viewers continue to blur the lines between being the viewer and giving unsolicited input, it’s time we reflect on how we engage through social media. Just because something can be said or can be posted doesn’t mean it should be. Loving the show and its contestants should never come at the expense of their mental or physical health.
If you or someone you know seems to be struggling, call or text the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline at 988.
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