Reality, shmeality

I have a confession to make. I have a terrible hangover.

All the symptoms are there. I have a headache, my neck is sore, I’m irritable and I’m way behind in my housework.

And yet, I haven’t had a drink in weeks.

I suspect I’m not the only Australian suffering from this hangover right now. And the culprit…MAFS!

I’ve been known to dabble in the occasional reality show in the past, but I’ve never watched a season of MAFS before this year. I’ve never really had much interest, or I was too busy watching people carry on about their dead grandmother’s recipe on MKR.

A few weeks ago, on an idle Sunday afternoon I was cooking my meal prep for my partner and I for the week and the TV just happened to be on and a catch-up of the previous week’s MAFS was on. Within about 8 minutes; the stove was turned off, my feet were curled up on the couch and I was completely and utterly hooked! The first wedding I saw was Matt and Alycia’s, and the Disney Princess inside me was adamant she was watching a real life love story unfold. Alicia was just beautiful and kind and Matt was all jittery nerves and gentle manners.

Fast forward a few weeks to the final week and I had to grab my calculator to realise that I had spent a total of 48 hours watching this show over a 7 week period! (Grab your calculators now: 4 x 1.5hr episodes a week = a country obsessed). And not only did Matt leave Alycia high and dry with little explanation straight after their honeymoon, but hardly any of the original couples (possibly none) are still together and I find myself feeling betrayed by complete strangers for not trying harder to make it work!

I’m pretty sure I was following each and every MAFS personality on Insta until one by one, they kept pissing me off and I started hitting that unfollow button. There’s homewrecker Davina (#Davina # coconut oil), misogynist Dean (who miraculously had me warming up to him in the end, in spite of him being a 39yr old rapper and skateboarder) poor old lip-licking Tracey (who had every woman facepalming week after week, even with the help of Holy Oprah watching over her) and everyone’s favourite loud mouth Charlene (who started as our Wonder Woman but quickly had us scratching our heads as she screeched at the nicest guy in the experiment to “Be a Maaaan” every time he did what we’re always saying we want our partners to do: share his feelings).

We all got way to invested in the lives of average, Australian strangers who will now return to their own fame-free lives. It was the water cooler chat at every office around the country (not to mention the hilarious recap articles by James Weir) and it even had straight, male, footballers hooked…whether they admit it publicly or not (I’ve seen the insta stories fellas). It was marketing genius and well done to the producers for not only creating a nation-wide addiction, but including contestants who aren’t all white and blonde (I’m looking at you The Bachelor). I just hope next year we see some same sex couples.

I have, however, come to the realisation that not only did MAFS make me unproductive; it made me somewhat anxious. Watching people yell at each other at dinner parties or immoral people prowling after other people’s wives or husbands with little or no regard for their current spouses creates a feeling inside me that is not calm or loving. Even MKR, that is advertised as a reality cooking show, has turned into a bizarre version of Real Housewives that sees contestants hurling more insults at each other than food onto a plate. I’m all for a little light entertainment but pitting people against each other on TV is getting a little out of hand and I worry that it’s becoming the norm, more than making friends with someone in a line at the bank.

I went for a long walk along Cronulla esplanade this afternoon and I smiled at strangers and they smiled back at me. I stopped at the top of the cliff and did some deep breathing over looking the ocean and I felt good. I felt clear in my head.

I am now going on a Reality TV Detox. I have asked my partner to crash tackle me if he catches me having a sneak peek at any upcoming Bachelor shows or cooking shows….but I’ll be damned if I’m letting go of Gogglebox or Travel Guides. That would be un-Australian.