‘The Bachelor’ Isn’t Killing Romance in America Because We Never Bought Into the Damn Thing In The First Place

That’s why we’re still alive

Recently my attention was gauged towards an article written by NBA legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar who ironically penned an essay for The Hollywood Reporter about the damaging effects of a Reality TV show that features a bunch of men and women waiting to be picked as the love of the life of a Bachelor or Bachelorette.

You just have to be a savvy navigator without the headlights of a deer.

Abdul-Jabbar didn’t grow up and mature during a season that requires a password in order to click your way into the page of a potential life partner. He never had to answer a gigantic survey that pricks through your skin like a blood test — in an effort to decipher whether or not you are robotic enough to stay human and if so can you adequately love the one you swiped with gusto.

The moment. For real or for reality.

The truth is that falling in love and feeling the reciprocated showering of the one that makes your heart ache with restorative abandon, is a fantasy.

It can only be initiated through the threads of time spent building the wall that will be torn down — the moment that contact is approved and logged without the haze of followers, numbers, and the pulse of the people — that hover with the mission of adding you to a collection that shifts with the tide of “likes” and “loves.”

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