A Different Approach to “I Don’t Believe in Labels” in Feel Good
by Maya Williams
Feel Good is a semi-autobiographical series on Netflix about two women, Mae (played by the creator of the series Mae Martin) and George (played by Charlotte Ritchie) who fall in love, move in together, and struggle internally with identity and recovery in the process. Not only does the show accomplish talking about addiction and depicting a queer love story in simultaneously humorous and heart-wrenching ways, Feel Good also gives representation of questioning queer and trans identities through its two main characters.
George has primarily dated men through the majority of her life, and has difficulty coming out of the closet to her friends, even after letting Mae move in with her. George specifically questions her place in the queer community even after finally coming out, meeting Mae’s parents, and going to a gay bar for the first time. I really appreciate how George’s story isn’t another story where it is difficult for the viewer to show empathy a woman questioning her sexuality because of how she may do so by engaging in cheating on her boyfriend or husband. George isn’t relying on a lack of a label for herself for the sake of another male partner; she is trying to navigate her place in who she is as a friend, daughter, educator, and lover.
Mae, who has been out as queer much longer than George, goes through another coming out process. The viewer sees Mae processing how to talk about her gender identity; how she holds it in her body, how she explores sex and intimacy with George. Eventually, Mae uses comedy to process it honestly. Although comedy has been used as a tool to deflect or not tell the entire backstory behind what one may be going through, Mae uses it to investigate her own awkwardness. And she sees the benefits of it regardless of how her loved ones, including George, may view her doing so. It is even more fascinating that as Mae critiques George for not coming out to people until medicated in public at a hospital, it isn’t until Mae is onstage in public to come out about potentially being trans.
As these characters are questioning what labels or lack of labels to use for their sexual and gender identities, it is able to give permission to viewers to do the same. It is a reminder of how queer and trans creators behind and in front of the camera are able to hold that space a lot better than straight, cis creators.
For example, when Mae says, “I’m not really into labels” or “I guess I’m transgender,” there is a sense of gentle vulnerability there. In interviews, Mae Martin has often named the importance of not taking herself too seriously in her queerness or her identity as a nonbinary woman.
Usually when the phrase “I don’t believe in labels” comes out of a fictional character’s mouth, it is used to dismiss wider conversations about sexuality and gender happening beyond the diegetic world. Cisgender, heterosexual showrunners and filmmakers often use this language to either excuse their method of queer baiting or to not upset international audiences, companies, and governments in countries where queer content wouldn’t be tolerated.
One of my favorite scenes in Feel Good is when Mae talks about her struggle with addiction because of her hyperfocus on “one thing and then the next thing,” and how that has played a role in her relationship with George. George interjects, “I’m not a thing.” Upon realizing the impact versus intention of her phrasing, Mae immediately apologizes by responding, “Of course not.” Queer and trans people are not “things” and what they know or don’t know about themselves isn’t “a thing.”
This is not to say that the show is without critique. I do wish that racial diversity were better implemented in the show, and that the character Lava (played by Ritu Arya) were able to explore more nuanced aspects of herself. If Mae Martin is allowed a second season of Feel Good, I hope there is room to improve that area of the seasons. If we could witness Lava in situations where she is not being used as a distraction for Mae’s relationship issues or what her life looks like outside of her relationship with her mother, I think it would make a stronger storyline for her. I also hope there is room to continue to questioning and challenging aspects of queer experiences and the stereotypes that surround our lives which made the series so intriguing to watch in the first place.
It’s only six episodes available on Netflix. It is amazing how so much happens in each twenty-five minute episode. Please watch for yourself to sit with each of the characters in their own line of discovery about themselves and each other.
About the Author:
Maya Williams (she/they) is a Black, Mixed-Race, queer suicide survivor currently residing in Portland, ME. She has a Masters in Social Work with a Certificate in Applied Arts and Social Justice and published essays in venues such as The Tempest, Rooted in Rights, O.School, Black Youth Project, and more. They also work as a spoken word poet and actor/consent educator with a non-profit in Maine. Follow Maya @emmdubb16 on Twitter and Instagram. Maya also has a website: https://www.mayawilliamspoet.com/
