The Price of Vulnerability 3/7
Too Hot to Handle – for real?
Maiken Ringkjøbing has always believed in and dreamed of love. She has simply struggled to dare to pursue it. In this personal story, Maiken Ringkjøbing explores why the fear of being hurt can outweigh the longing for love. What does it do to a person to protect themselves so much that no one is ever truly allowed to get close?
This is the third part of The Price of Vulnerability by Maiken Ringkjøbing.
What if I do not actually doubt love itself — but doubt that all of me could ever truly be chosen?
The Too Hot to Handle series on Netflix is, on the surface, a reality TV circus — filled with tanned bodies, self-promotion, and sexual restraint comparable to a rehabilitation program.
I have religiously watched all six seasons simply because I think it is entertaining. Or do I?
Right in the middle of trying to piece together my own journey through love, I discover that the sixth season has been released. I watch it and, as usual, laugh several times throughout at how self-absorbed and superficial they sound. But somewhere along the way, it strikes me that it is actually an almost one-to-one reflection of modern dating culture — at least the one I know.
These people loudly proclaim how little they need others. How much they love one-night stands, shallow flirting, and the “freedom” of not committing to anything or anyone.
And honestly, it is just a cinematic version of everyone’s beloved Tinder. The ultimate swipe culture. Here, the opportunities to live out the story we imagine for ourselves are endless. Freedom, parties, excitement, and absolutely no emotional investment — yes please!
And, to a large extent, we genuinely buy into this romanticized idea of freedom. As though sleeping with someone new every weekend is infinitely cooler than building a partnership where you can share all the heavy things that are impossible to carry alone.
What a punch to the stomach.
Everything I have criticized about Tinder and the people on it (yes yes, I have browsed around there myself from time to time) is exactly what I have always relied on: purely superficial relationships, allowing me to feel validated and desirable without ever letting potential romantic partners dig even one layer deeper.
One thing is that I can recognize the issues all six seasons’ contestants struggle with. But I have a much harder time relating to the vulnerability that gradually emerges throughout the show through forced sexual abstinence and various emotional self-help workshops.
And yet, not one, not two, but three actual tears roll down my cheeks when I watch them begin to open up.
Because when they dare to stay and truly look another person in the eyes, something happens.
They cry. They struggle. They change.
Not because someone rescues them, but because they begin to realize that sex and superficial relationships were never what they were truly missing.
It was closeness.
Safety.
Being chosen — exactly as they are behind the façade.
I think most people have either dated someone like them or have been someone like them. Too Hot to Handle confirms that too.
And maybe it is all connected.
Maybe the problem is not that we do not want to be loved — but that we do not believe we are worthy of love.
“Reality TV as a mirror. Not because it is real, but because it shows us what we hope for — and what we protect ourselves against. Sometimes all it takes is watching a British reality contestant break down on a plastic sofa under artificial lighting to understand what you yourself are trying to keep hidden in the dark.”
— Maiken’s inner dialogue