Why I’m Nervous About This Season Of ‘The Bachelorette’
Reality TV hasn't treated queerness with respect in the past.
Tonight, our first ever bisexual Bachelorette, steps onto the somewhat worn red carpet of the Bachy mansion, into history, and into a thousand Bachy recap podcasts.
26-year-old youth worker Brooke Blurton, a proud Noongar-Yamatji woman, is also the first Indigenous woman cast as The Bachelorette. It’s also the first time that the show has had mixed-gender casting for the contestants. There are lots of firsts, which apart from anything else, is probably needed to revive the tired format after last season’s Bachelor had some of the lowest ratings ever.
I’ve been recapping the various shows of the Bachelor franchise since 2017 (and Bec Shaw and I are recapping this season too over on our newsletter) and if there’s one thing I’ve bemoaned more than the show’s sick fascination with ill-fitting suits on men, it’s the rampant and ritualised tropes of heterosexuality. Oh boy, is the show bamboozled with heterosexual nonsense, absolutely drenched in the weird stodgy stew of mandatory straightness.
So, you’d think that after all this time, after all the mean recaps I’ve written, after all the embarrassingly earnest article I’ve written calling for more queer representation on the show, that now that we’re on the eve of our first ever bisexual Bachelorette, that I’d be happy.
Nothing is ever that simple, unfortunately. Life is complicated and full of traps. I have spent so long thinking too deeply about reality TV that my brain is utterly unsalvageable from the writhing mass of worms that has taken over.
As I wrote earlier for Junkee, I am excited about Brooke Blurton’s season of The Bachelorette. I think that it’s both an exciting step forward for queer representation on mainstream TV, and also a chapter of very stupid TV that will be both chaotic and mostly pointless, which queer people also deserve. Give me my queer chaos mansion. Give me my ridiculous drama, but make it inclusive.
But as I’ve been waiting, the more my fears have grown. I have no doubt that we’re gonna get a fun and messy season of TV — what I worry about is the negative consequences, reductive stereotypes, and perhaps even dangerous reactions that could come about from Brooke’s season.
A Spotlight On Brooke
One of the interesting things about Brooke being our first Bachelorette is that she’s traditionally been relatively reserved about her sexuality.
In her season of The Bachelor with the Honey Badger, she felt compelled to disclose that she’d dated two women to Nick, because rumours of this had “spread like wildfire around the house”. She told the podcast It’s A Lot that the disclosure came from significant peer pressure. She also told Nick, “I’m not a bisexual or a lesbian or anything like that, I’m a big lover of people and who they are”.
Give me my ridiculous drama, but make it inclusive.
Since that season, Brooke now says she feels more comfortable with the labels of bisexual or pansexual — recently saying on the radio: “I’ve never really put a label to it — but it makes it easier for people to understand that I like more than one gender. Bisexuality is two genders, so if it helps people for them to affiliate that with me, that’s fine.”
All of this is perfectly fine, and I’m hesitant to even monitor and mention it, except to showcase the point that sexuality is fluid, changing, and above all, private. Nobody is entitled to this information, or to question it. The fact that people in the previous mansion saw her sexuality as something to be “disclosed” is worrying, and I hope that Brooke is given the space to maintain her boundaries.
There is pressure from the outside world — from both straight people and other people in the LGBTIQ community — and expectations of what “out and proud” should look like. What queer people ask for is the freedom to individually define what that looks like, which is different for every person. I hope Brooke is not forced to disclose more than she wants.
Salacious Storylines
Having a bisexual Bachelorette with a mixed-gender casting (and I say that having seen the cast list, and not having any indication of non-binary of gender-diverse contestants being involved, unfortunately) should be enough to simply change the format to something inclusive. What I worry about is that the show will feel the need to turn the queerness of the show into the narrative point of difference, to capitalise on it as something exotic and salacious and strange.
What I worry about is that the show will feel the need to turn the queerness of the show into the narrative point of difference, to capitalise on it as something exotic and salacious and strange.
This could happen through the editing, through the way the production guides the conversation — prompting other contestants to bring up queerness as a pro or con in their connection, making it into something that is fair game to be discussed publically. I hope the show doesn’t go down that route. It could also happen more organically — it looks like most of the men involved are straight — and how are they going to interact with Brooke’s queerness. Traditionally, bisexual women are fetishized by straight men, viewed as sexual objects, as a category of porn.
I hope we aren’t served up these kinds of reductive tropes. Bisexuals get a million — untrustworthy, hyper-horny, just a “phase” between either lesbianism or straightness, unable to settle down. I might be all those things, but it’s not because I’m bi, it’s because I’m a bit shit.
Are the men, who are often extremely keen for someone to birth their awful children, going to see her as less viable for this (which is a weird thing that straight people often think?) I don’t know — I think that the show could be a great education tool for mainstream Australia and these kinds of conversations, but it still makes me nervous. And it’s a lot of pressure on Brooke, someone who never asked to represent a community.
On that note: I know that the queer community is excited about Brooke being bisexual, but I have to warn you now, she’s absolutely going to make out with some form of disappointing straight man, and we have to be ok with that. Brace yourself.
Hatred And Trolling
The main thing I worry about is Brooke’s mental and physical safety. By going on this show, and being “the first bisexual Bachelorette” she is placing herself under scrutiny, and there’s a strong possibility she’ll face outright homophobia. Recently, MAFS contestant Liam Cooper spoke openly about the barrage of hate he got after being openly bi on the show.
Not only is there the homophobia, but Brooke is also carrying the first Indigenous Bachelorette flag, which brings its own problems and pride — as explained in this great ABC Everyday piece. And we know that this country has deep racism.
I think that along with the fun the queer community is going to have with this, there’s also a sense of bracing ourselves. There’s the same feeling I get when I’m walking through the suburbs to go see my mum — the feeling of scrutiny from people who have, in the past, had the potential to be massively homophobic. I wouldn’t change anything about myself, and I wouldn’t alter my route anymore, but I’m still very aware, very cautious.
That A Panther Will Get Loose And Bite Everyone
Look it’s just something I think about in every season: what if a panther got loose. That is a worry I have.
Patrick Lenton is a writer and author, and former editor of Junkee. Bec Shaw and Patrick Lenton are recapping the Bachelorette this season over at their newsletter All The Heterosexual Nonsense I Was Forced To Endure.