There’s been a trend on TikTok where users ask viewers how old they look. The comments are almost always brutal digs at a person’s appearance. It’s like people don’t know what aging actually looks like anymore.

A few years ago, I made an appointment at a spa for what should have been a relaxing facial. Instead, I left with a new insecurity as the esthetician remarked that I was too young to have wrinkles. I was barely over an adult acne stint, and while I had obviously noticed the lines in my forehead, I thought they were the normal result of being expressive. Suddenly I was 25ish going on ancient.

It’s not the facialist’s fault, really. Our society is obsessed with women being young and perfect forever. But we also hate everything women do, so you’re damed if you do anything about it and damned if you don’t.

And then came The Golden Bachelor.

I love reality TV. I grew up watching the Real World and Laguna Beach, and became obsessed with MTV dating shows like Rock of Love and Daisy of Love. The Bachelor, though, wasn’t on my radar until I got invested in Ben Higgins’ season. I fell in love with JoJo Fletcher, so I had to watch her season of The Bachelorette and then came Nick Viall and finally Rachel Lindsay.

Post-Rachel, though, I dropped off the franchise just as quickly as I joined. But one look at The Golden Bachelor trailer and I was hooked. Within the first few minutes of episode one, I was crying, and it continued, with a few tears or full out sobs nearly every episode.

Recently, Gerry Turner announced he and winner Theresa were divorcing just a few months post-finale, but this post isn’t about the power of true love. This is about changing the way we think about beauty.

There’s a few reasons why The Golden Bachelor works, and it all stems from it finally veering from what we’ve become accustomed to. At the start of reality TV, no one was thinking about social media careers afterwards. Young people went on TV, joining strangers for a few months of debauchery. Then they returned to their lives. If they did become famous, it was almost by accident.

Now, contestants go on TV with the sole purpose of quitting their jobs and making thousands in brand deals. I can’t blame them, I’d probably jump at the chance too. But that makes the shows we watch a lot less interesting. As more Love is Blind contestants reveal they were plucked from social media by producers, rather than actually applying for a chance to meet a potential spouse, the less I believe what I’m watching.

I’m not sure any reality show is 100 percent real, but there is an incredible rawness when it comes to the women competing for Gerry Turner’s love. They don’t strike me as hoping for internet fame, and that’s not just because of their ages. Some of them have deservedly gotten it—Susan, you have my heart—but I believe all of them actually wanted another chance at true love. Maybe the well-oiled machine that is reality TV production has clouded my vision, but hearing so many people share stories of losing their partners after decades together, ripped my soul apart.

A Face For TV

Reality TV has another issue too: Contestants have started to look vaguely the same.

There was a time when people on TV looked kinda similar to real life, just more polished. The girls on Laguna Beach or The Hills, although beautiful and significantly richer, had the same tacky outfits, the same smudged eyeliner and ill-fitting headbands. Their expression lines showed. They had natural teeth. Now, contestants are perfectly structured and toned, with overfilled lips and scarily perfect veneers. It’s hard not to compare yourself.

I didn’t know just how badly I needed to see the women from The Golden Bachelor until I did. In Hollywood, male actors are allowed to get old and wrinkly and still be hot. They are the romantic lead, paired with much younger actresses. Women are cast aside the second they show age, playing the old mom at 30. But here, you see wrinkles, you see short hair, long hair, greys, arms that aren’t perfectly toned by private trainers in a designer gym. These women aren’t beautiful despite showing signs of age. They are simply beautiful.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to age gracefully or get plastic surgery or stay super fit. It’s about not feeling forced. It’s about seeing more than one face.

It’s worth noting that The Bachelor franchise did something similar for me during Nick Viall’s season in 2017. Jaimi King was the first reality TV show cast member I ever remember seeing with naturally curly hair. Up until then, I had battled with my own curls, frying them to try to look like everyone else. Movies like The Princess Diaries made me believe it was ugly with no chance of repair.

Growing up in the early aughts was not for the weak. The nightly news was as brutal as the tabloids, degrading women who grew bigger than a size two, and prioritizing youth about all else. We’ve progressed a little since then, but just when you think your brain has broken free, something brings you back. The Golden Bachelor helped to fix some of that damage. I hope it lives on forever, showing us that life doesn’t end after 30.