Nobody Wants This -- Providing a Safe Space For Women's Psyche
As I was watching Nobody Wants This on Netflix, I started to feel that familiar TV anxiety—you know, when you empathize a little too much with the characters' predicaments. This happened around the second episode. But two things quickly calmed me down, letting me know this show was different and would be a safe but deeply entertaining watch. First, when the rabbi puts Joanne at ease after she waits for him outside the temple. And second, when I learned the show was written by Erin Foster and produced by her sister, Sara Foster.
Being presented by two women signaled to me this show would be a safe space for a woman’s psyche. Not that it wouldn’t challenge us—it did, through scenes like Joanne facing her fears and holding herself accountable, Morgan possibly starting something inappropriate with a married man, or Rebecca admitting she lied to avoid letting go of a man who clearly wasn’t interested. But it stayed free of those harmful tropes and narratives about love and relationships that often condition us into cycles of lack and fear.
In fact, thinking about the relief this show brought makes me realize just how emotionally scarred we’ve become from the buildup of toxic stories over time.
So, what do I mean by "emotionally safe"? There's a field the show was willing to play in, and boundaries it wasn't willing to cross.
We didn't have to watch the main female character desperately chasing a romantic relationship or shaping her entire life around it. Instead, we saw her living a full, flawed life—dating, sure—but not making it her top priority. She actively chose to avoid drama for her own well-being, and then found a deep connection when she wasn’t even looking for it.
We didn’t watch her be emotionally traumatized or lied to by her love interest. Instead, we saw their wounds triggered, but in a healthy, open way.
We saw how relationships can serve their purpose—mirroring us, hurting us, expanding us—without the usual layers of toxicity.
I get the feeling Foster, like most women, understands the fears and limitations society projects onto us—especially in romantic dynamics. This show sets a new standard: it can be safe to explore love and the growth it brings, while rejecting the abuse and mistreatment that's so often presented as our only option.
I loved how Morgan played the voice of fear throughout the show. In many ways, she represents that old paradigm we need to release. For example, when Joanne trusted her intuition and went to the temple after learning the rabbi had been asking about her, Morgan was the one warning her that maybe she wasn’t a priority. Sure, there was some truth to her concerns, which the rabbi acknowledged with an apology. But that scene really captured how easily women can slip into fears and insecurities—understandably so. Morgan got into my head, too. I was loving how Joanne and the rabbi were flowing, but when Morgan chimed in, I started to think, “Wait, maybe this isn’t so cute after all.”
Another moment was after their first kiss. Joanne started spiraling because he hadn’t texted back right away, and of course, Morgan fed her fears, assuming she had sent a text that was “too much.”
Morgan is our fears, our conditioning—and she’s also that friend we probably shouldn’t listen to.
Its stories like the one reflected in Nobody Wants This that are so important in shaping the new world we are all creating on so many levels. One where we acknowledge our fears but don't let them define the journey. Instead, it shows us what it looks like to choose ourselves, to embrace our intuition, and to understand that love—real, deep love—doesn’t have to come with trauma or drama. And ultimately that we as women deserve love, and not just any kind of love but the love we truly desire that reflects our highest paths.