Dear Television: A Love Letter
My dearest television,
You are my first love. I adore you. And this letter is way overdue.
From Saturday morning cartoons to primetime, I recall moments in my life from your lineups: 7:00, Happy Days; 7:30, Laverne & Shirley; 8:00, Three’s Company; 8:30, Too Close for Comfort; 9:00 Hart to Hart — the Tuesday nights I spent with my dad. Growing up, you were my companion and my friend.
Such a love may be difficult for many to understand. It is not as if you were my only friend. No — you have simply been the truest, most loyal, and stalwart friend. You have made me laugh, comforted me, and even inspired my creativity. Though it has not always been an easy journey.
So often I yearned to see myself in your eyes. Having more LGBT characters in your shows would have helped coax me to understand myself earlier. Having more lesbian characters that did not die would have been even more encouraging (talking to you, Buffy). And, of course, you have stumbled in the past year. Well, let’s be honest — you got drunk and fell down a steep hill, saved only by a wayward branch to prevent your tumble into the abyss.
As you know, trust is not easily rebuilt. But boy, I have been impressed with your efforts. As I’ve struggled through the loneliness of depression, and its concomitant isolation, you have been so present and wonderful. From The Fosters to Supergirl (for the love of all that is holy, please let Alex Danvers and Maggie Sawyer be happy), you have been comforting and kind. Not only that, you found actors that understand the impact of their roles (I defy you to not develop crushes on Sherri Saum and Teri Polo or Chyler Leigh). Looking to the future, seeing you portray more transgender characters and women of color would show that you are truly committed.
Yes, I do believe we can make it. And I believe in you. Together we can do anything.
My love always,