I didn’t expect Bridgerton season three to hurt my feelings…but here we are.
I’ve been a Bridgerton girl since season one. The gowns, the longing stares, the dramatic orchestral covers this show has had me in a chokehold for years. So when season three finally dropped, centered around a couple I had been quietly rooting for since the very beginning, I thought it was going to ruin my life in the best way possible. Instead, it ruined my sleep schedule because I stayed up trying to figure out why it didn’t hit the way I needed it to.
And no, it wasn’t the acting. The actors were incredible. There is truly no reason in this world I shouldn’t have loved this season. But something felt…off. So naturally, I spiraled. Then I found my answer: tropes.
Let’s rewind.
Season One: Fake Dating, Forced Proximity, and Falling Hard
Season one of Bridgerton gave us Daphne and Simon, and more importantly, it gave us one of the most elite romance tropes to ever exist: fake dating. Two people pretending to be in love, constantly around each other, slowly realizing their feelings are very real? Say less.
The forced proximity, the tension, the stolen glances at balls it was everything. Watching them get to know each other in close quarters made the love story feel earned. I eat that up in books and on screen, so it makes sense that season one had me completely hooked.
Season Two: Enemies to Lovers Excellence
Then came season two, which somehow managed to raise the bar. Kate and Anthony delivered enemies to lovers in its purest, most agonizing form. The tension. The denial. The way they clearly wanted each other but absolutely refused to admit it.
Their love story thrived on distance on everything left unsaid. The anger, the resentment, the yearning simmering beneath the surface was what pulled them together in the end. It was intense, emotional, and dramatic in the way Bridgerton does best.
At this point, I trusted the show with my heart.
Season Three: When Friends to Lovers Isn’t for the Girls (or Me)
Which brings me to season three.
Penelope and Colin had been a subplot I adored in seasons one and two. The longing! The unrequited feelings! The potential! I was so invested in where their story would go, so when it was finally their turn, my expectations were sky-high.
But here’s the thing I had to admit to myself after losing a little sleep over it: I don’t like friends to lovers.
I just don’t.
Friends to lovers is a trope that works beautifully for some people, but for me, it lacks the tension I crave. I want obstacles. I want yearning from afar. I want chaos. Watching two people who are already comfortable with each other slowly realize they’ve been in love all along just doesn’t scratch my brain the same way.
That realization was oddly comforting. It helped me understand that the season didn’t fall short because it was bad it fell short because it wasn’t for me.
Season Four: A Dream Cinderella Romance Come to Life
Season four of Bridgerton was everything I dreamed of and more, leaning fully into classic romance tropes in the best way. It gave us the ultimate Cinderella fantasy complete with a masked ball, hidden identity, and love that feels destined from the very start.
From the moment he saw her, it was pure love at first sight, wrapped in mystery and magic. But what really elevated it was the lost love and searching for the one who got away trope. He didn’t forget her or move on he was completely captivated, holding onto the memory of a girl he barely knew yet felt fated to find.
Final Thoughts: It’s Okay to Know Your Tropes
Season three of Bridgerton taught me something important: sometimes your enjoyment of a love story has nothing to do with quality and everything to do with preference. The actors were amazing. The story was thoughtfully done. I just happen to be a girl who doesn’t enjoy friends to lovers.
And that’s okay.
Because Bridgerton will always find a way to pull me back in!