What Love on the Spectrum taught me about dating
Earnest reality TV can teach us a thing or two about human connection
When it comes to reality TV, most of it is garbage.
Nothing against those who create, produce, and love it. There’s a market for everything after all.
But I believe the old adage that what you give attention to grows, and that my attention is consequently precious and powerful. I'd rather kill brain cells sniffing Sharpie pens all day long than be forced to give my attention to Bravo.
But then I watched Netflix’s Love on the Spectrum during an opportune weekend of bingeable time, and I fell in love. Not only does it have a feel-good intent, it’s almost antithetical to the typical reality tropes because its participants are a group of young adults who’re basically incapable of manipulation or nefarious motives. It’s a reality show about people on the autism spectrum who want to find love, following their dating life, ups and downs, lessons, and evolutions. The show was originally created and aired in Australia in 2019.
The American version is now in its second season, following neurodivergent singles like Dani from Los Angeles and Tanner in Clemson, South Carolina, through their dating life. We get to know their families, meet their roommates and friends.
I watched the first season when it came out, but what I found after watching the second season on a long weekend in Austin with my very pregnant friend Hannah, was that LOTS touches on themes that are true for all people dating. Things like listening, making eye contact, and being honest and direct. For everyone, not only those who are neurodivergent, these are fundamental yet challenging skills to master when meeting lots of new people and potential love interests.
Green in Venice
Though it probably paints a somewhat narrow, tidy portrait of its subjects, as any reality TV show does, LOTS humanizes and empathizes with the interpersonal challenges faced by people on the autism spectrum, many of whom must work harder to master interpersonal communication skills and who are often misunderstood by others.
Subjects of the show like James, Journey, and Connor explore the world and mature more slowly than the average twenty-something. They’re just learning how to be intimate with others, how to compromise and be mindful of others’ needs along with their own. They learn how to be interested instead of interesting, how to broach the topics of sex, marriage, and children, and how to remain positive and upbeat despite the inevitable disappointments that accompany modern dating.
We watch them learn how to kiss and show affection, and to evaluate one another on holistic compatibility—mind, body, and soul. They also learn how to reject or be rejected diplomatically and remain friendly.
Their trials reminded me of the very trials and evolutionary lessons that I have faced in my own dating life and am still working on to this day.
In one moment the show feels almost quaint in its innocence, naïvete, and sensations of awe experienced by the cast, just by going on a first date or or sharing a peck on the cheek. But, it’s also a reminder to the rest of us of the fundamentals of intimacy. Curiosity, kindness, honesty, and vulnerability.
So many people I meet today in dating or romantic capacities still fail at these very basic interpersonal tests. They’ve forgotten the basics—or never learned them—in favor of exhausting mind games, egoistic status obsession, and material pursuits. Especially among gay men, hyper sexuality and carnality only serve to diminish their capacity for genuine connection, at a time when many people report loneliness and lack of good close friends.
Watching LOTS with Hannah was helpful because she studied special education, and works with children on the autism spectrum at a private pre-K in Austin where she is Head of School. She explained to me that people on the spectrum often offer a perspective that is without the pretense or posturing typical of a first date.
The Debster
Communication, the key to any relationship, can often be compromised when we say things we think the other person wants to hear. For many individuals on the spectrum, we get the chance to communicate in a more straightforward way than we are accustomed to. While this may seem clunky and occasionally cross boundaries, I found LOTS and its subjects to be wholly refreshing and uplifting, a true counterpoint in the sea of mindless TV filled with conflict and competition.
Not just because the cast is so likable and charming and inadvertently funny, but their lessons remind viewers of the universal tenets of good human connection, whether or not they are on the autism spectrum. I imagine that many adolescents could benefit from watching it as they enter their first romantic tryst years. Adults might benefit too, to refresh their own interpersonal and romantic relationship skills and even learn some new ones.
If you’re looking for a different kind of reality TV, one with sweetness, I highly suggest queuing it up on Netflix.
In the 1970s there was a series (possibly the first reality TV) that follows the Loud Family. That was their name but by the end also an appropriate adjective. The family started out okay and by the end they’d imploded. I’m always impressed that anyone wants to take the camera into their life. Not me. Not ever.