Are you not suspicious about the way we call reality shows our guilty pleasure? As if we are simply sitting there judging strangers while eating crisps like civilised citizens? OH MY GAWD, no, babes. You are not watching for background noise. You are watching because some part of your soul sees itself in the chaos and refuses to look away.
Reality TV is basically therapy but without coping skills. You get to witness people making horrible decisions so you do not have to confront your own. You judge them loudly and then quietly realise you would have done the same thing if the lighting was good and the producers were feeding you wine like it was communion.
We pretend we are better than the shows we binge, but deep down, every comfort watch is a psychological confession. Let us stop lying to ourselves and tell the truth. If you watch this show and see yourself in it, you are probably this person.
No judgement. Only love and a light emotional dragging.
MTV ROADIES
If Roadies lives rent free in your bloodstream, you are the type of person who treats life like an audition even when you are just trying to order pani puri. You genuinely believe that emotional resilience is proven through suffering and that crying is only allowed if it happens in the rain while Linkin Park plays in the background.
You did not grow up, you trained for impact. You flinch when someone raises their voice not because you are scared, but because your nervous system is permanently stuck in elimination round mode. You do not say “I am going through something”, you say “life is testing me”. If something is too easy, you assume it is a trap. If something is kind, you assume it will not last. You think gentleness is suspicious.
Your love language is survival. You bond through trauma, not trust. You respect people more if they have suffered publicly. You think vulnerability is weakness and that people who ask for help are simply not built for the wild. When someone tries to comfort you, you respond like a wolf being offered soup.
But here is the plot twist nobody prepared you for. You are not intense. You are tired. You have been in fight mode for so long that peace feels like a prank. You do not know how to exist without anticipating the next emotional injury. You are not heartless, you are armoured.
And the saddest truth: you don’t actually want chaos. You want one soft place that does not make you earn safety. You are allowed to stop auditioning. You are allowed to be held without being tested. You are allowed to be chosen without screaming your backstory.
Put the metaphorical bandana down, soldier. You survived. You can rest now.
LOVE ISLAND
If Love Island is your emotional Olympics, then bestie, you are the human embodiment of “I know it’s only been three minutes but I would die for him”. You do not develop feelings, you download them like a dodgy file on weak Wi Fi. One flirt, and suddenly you are planning weddings in Capri that man cannot afford.
You are not toxic, you are just chronically hopeful. You believe in second chances for people who do not even deserve the first one. Someone tells you you’re “cute” and your brain goes full Shakespeare. Someone pulls you for a chat and your soul prepares for rebirth. Your romantic type is basically a walking red flag but with a nice jawline and trauma that makes you think you can fix them.
Let’s be honest. You do not want love, you want a public declaration in front of witnesses and a firepit. Your nervous system is addicted to situationships that could have been resolved with one honest sentence, but where’s the entertainment in that. You say you want stability but your heart rate only spikes when someone says “my head’s been turned”.
And the worst part. You would absolutely couple up again with the same man who ruined your life if he came back with a fade and emotional growth sponsored by producers.
It is fine. We all love like clowns sometimes. Just drink water and stop falling for men named Tyler.
THE CIRCLE
If The Circle is your comfort show, babe, you are the kind of person who can type your entire soul into a paragraph but cannot make eye contact for longer than three seconds. You want connection, but you want it filtered, subtitled, and delivered through a ring light.
You are not fake, you are just romantically allergic to vulnerability. You want people to like you, but only the curated version. The version with rehearsed jokes, typed confidence, and zero chance of someone seeing you think before you speak. In person, you panic when someone says “tell me about yourself” and suddenly forget your own name, hobbies, and entire personality.
You are the CEO of being emotionally honest online and emotionally buffering offline. You overshare in texts, but if someone asks you “are you okay” face to face, you glitch like a Sims character stuck in a wall.
The truth is soft and painful. You want deep friendships, but you are petrified they will not choose you once they meet the unfiltered edition. So you stay safe behind the screen. Seen, but not touched.
Spoiler alert. People would love you even more in person, stutters and all. Log out and breathe.
INDIAN MATCHMAKING
If Indian Matchmaking is your Roman Empire, you are living in a constant battlefield between “follow your heart” and “what will the aunties say”. You laugh at the show like it is satire, but deep down you are taking notes like it is a survival manual.
You are not desperate for marriage, you are just haunted by biodatas like jump scares. You want love, but also a partner who will not trigger a community meeting. You want chemistry but also someone who can pronounce “respectable career”. Your fantasies switch between eloping in Goa and having a fully catered wedding with choreographed dances and minimal gossip.
Every time Sima aunty says “compromise”, your soul leaves your body. Because you were raised on Bollywood romance but graded on matrimony practicality. You are emotionally multilingual in red flags and parent expectations. You are not looking for a soulmate, you are looking for someone your parents can brag about without fainting.
And the funniest part. You will clown on the show publicly, but privately think
“actually it wouldn’t be the worst thing if someone vetted people for me because dating apps have destroyed my will to live”.
It is fine. We all contain multitudes and at least three aunties in our head.
TOO HOT TO HANDLE
If this show is your emotional support animal, you are the type who flirts like it is cardio but catches feelings like it is a terminal illness. You are physically affectionate but emotionally unavailable with free shipping.
Commitment terrifies you more than climate change. You love intimacy as long as it stays shallow enough to escape from at any moment. Someone asks you what you are looking for, and suddenly your brain blue screens. You think vulnerability is something that happens to other people, preferably off camera.
You are not heartless. You are heart injured. Touch is easy. Honesty is dangerous. You would rather kiss someone than tell them you like them. You panic when things get real, so you sabotage before anyone can leave you first. You think you are protecting yourself, but actually you are just lonely with extra steps.
Watching hot people fail at emotional growth makes you feel normal. Because deep down, you know your real fantasy is not chaos. It is being chosen by someone who does not run away when they finally see you properly.
But sure, keep pretending you just want vibes.
SHARK TANK
If Shark Tank is entertainment for you, sweetheart, blink twice if you are not okay.
You do not watch to relax. You watch to compare your productivity to billionaires while eating biscuits at 1 am. Your brain does not rest, it strategises. You think every hobby needs to become a side hustle and every interest should have a business model.
You are not ambitious, you are chronically afraid of being average. You rest with guilt. You panic when you are not optimising. You think relaxation must be earned and even then only for a short, supervised period.
You give yourself performance reviews like a company that cannot afford HR. Your toxic trait is researching self improvement instead of doing literally anything that brings you joy.
Here is the tea.
Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is be a person and not a start up.
Close your laptop. Drink water. Touch grass.
BIGG BOSS
If Bigg Boss is your personality quiz, you are the nation’s quiet chaos connoisseur. You will never start a fight, but you will absolutely observe every detail like a CCTV camera with popcorn.
You say you love peace, but your spirit animal is conflict you do not have to participate in. You think you are neutral, but really you are a retired villain who watches drama like a nature documentary.
You live for alliances, secret conversations, and people exposing themselves accidentally. You would never throw a plate, but if someone else did, you would take mental notes and update the group chat immediately.
You are not messy. You are mess adjacent. And honestly, we respect it.
QUEER EYE
If this show makes you cry every single time, you are the mother friend with emotional exhaustion disguised as capability.
You are the healer who has never been healed. You pour into others like you are limitless, then wonder why you feel hollow. You love watching transformations because some part of you is waiting for someone to show up and say
“you do not have to be strong today”.
You give softness without receiving it. You are tired of being the reliable one. You are overdue for care. You do not need a makeover. You need permission to collapse without apologising.
You are not dramatic. You are human. And you deserve the same rescue you keep offering everyone else.
INDIAN IDOL
If Indian Idol is your emotional comfort show, you are the kind of person who believes you are one dramatic spotlight moment away from your entire life changing. You have main character energy even when you are literally just buying onions. You rehearse imaginary interviews in the shower. You imagine strangers being moved to tears by your existence.
You are not cringe. You are chronically cinematic. You think ordinary life is just the filler episode before your grand breakthrough. You secretly hope someone will overhear you humming and say
“my God, where have you been”.
You are fueled by delusion, and honestly, that is what has kept you alive. You believe talent does not need strategy, just timing. You are waiting for destiny the way other people wait for Uber.
The only problem. You are terrified of actually trying. Because what if the world does not agree with the version of you you hold so sacred in your head. So you dream loudly and act quietly.
But here is the truth. You do not need a judge to validate your voice. Some people are meant to be heard without being scored.
Keep singing, superstar.
BLING EMPIRE
If Bling Empire is your guilty pleasure, you are the kind of person who checks your bank account and still says
“I deserve a treat”.
You have champagne taste with Parle-G budgeting. You believe you were born into the wrong tax bracket and the universe is simply lagging. You window shop like you are manifesting. You save items to wishlist like they are prophecies.
You are not materialistic. You are romantic about luxury. You want soft life energy without email reminders. You think wealth isn’t about money, it’s about vibe ownership.
Deep down, you do not want riches. You want ease. You want a life where rest is not earned and joy is not rationed. Watching people casually wear jewellery worth your tuition fees gives you hope that somewhere, somehow, your destiny includes satin robes and emotional stability.
It is fine babe. We all believe we are secretly heirs.
SPLITSVILLA
If Splitsvilla is your Roman Empire, oh sweetheart, you are feral in the heart and poetic in the notes app. You believe every situationship is fate. You think the universe communicates through mixed signals and Instagram stories.
You say you hate toxic people but you also find them mysteriously magnetic. You thrive in triangles that could have been avoided with one honest text. Your type is emotionally unavailable but hot enough to inconvenience your self respect.
You are not messy. You are just addicted to intensity. Calm feels boring. Loyalty feels fictional. You want fireworks and heartbreak and dramatic exits, but then cry when reality does not match your Wattpad.
It is okay. You will heal when you finally choose peace over plot.
KEEPING UP WITH THE KARDASHIANS
If this is your comfort show, you narrate your life in your head like there is a camera crew following you to the fridge. You believe minor inconveniences are historic events. You deliver one liners to imaginary producers.
You are soft, dramatic, and deeply committed to your own lore. You pretend you are chill, but your emotional range is opera level. You love gossip but refuse to call it gossip because you are simply “sharing information”.
You are not shallow. You are hyper self aware and low key exhausted. You want a life that feels curated, but inside you are just trying not to cry in public.
You deserve softer seasons.
SURVIVOR
If Survivor is your obsession, you are the kind of person who overthinks for sport. You do not trust peace. You are always mentally preparing for betrayal, even when you are just at brunch.
You read body language like sacred text. You assume the worst so you never get blindsided. You are emotionally built for apocalypse scenarios even though the biggest crisis in your life is low battery.
You are not paranoid. You were just taught early that safety is temporary. You crave reliability but only know hyper vigilance.
Here is the truth. Not everyone is plotting against you. Some people just love you quietly with no strategy. Let yourself believe it.
Reality TV is basically your reflection with better lighting.
Nobody watches these shows by accident. We watch what feels familiar. We watch what feels forbidden. We watch what feels like confession disguised as entertainment.
So the next time you press play and say it is just for fun, remember this. You are not judging strangers. You are studying your own madness in a safer font.
And honestly babe, it is iconic.
So the next time you call reality TV your “guilty pleasure”, be honest with yourself: you’re not just watching a show, you’re watching a slightly less filtered version of your own brain chemistry in HD.
Whether you’re a Love Island lover with attachment issues, a Shark Tank soldier who can’t rest without monetising their sleep, or a Bigg Boss spectator who swears they’re “not messy, just observing”, babes, same. We’re all just little people with big feelings, hiding inside confessionals we pretend are “just for fun”.
For more pop culture therapy, emotional draggings wrapped in love, and unhinged-but-self-aware breakdowns of the things you swear “don’t affect you that much”, come read us at Her Campus at MUJ.
This is Niamat Dhillon for HCMUJ, signing off with one final truth:
You are not what you watch.
But your watchlist is absolutely snitching on you.