Okay, guys, this has to be a short one, since I have work to do in places where I can make more of a difference than I can by yelling at this show.
Not that this was a terrible episode; it wasn’t. The Shane scenes were good, Lauren’s hair was worthy of the Smithsonian, and Amy made some of my favorite Amy faces to date. But last week, an AE reader contacted me on Twitter (follow her at @tayalee0808) and put into words a feeling I have been struggling to articulate for some time now.
THAT. That right there is the impossible position queer fans of this show are put in every week. Faking It tells us, again and again, not to give up on Karmy. Carter Covington retweets fan theories justifying why Karma just can’t come to terms with her secret romantic feelings for Amy. This week’s episode featured NOT ONE BUT TWO scenes of Amy and Karma cuddling in bed. The entire premise of the show rests on the possibility that they might someday be together.
But Karma has said, again and again (frequently in the nicest way possible) that she is straight and her feelings for Amy cannot be more than platonic. Which, as that awesome reader says, makes it feel like you can’t be a Karmy shipper and “respect Karma’s agency.” Shipping Karmy means not trusting Karma to define her own sexuality. Imagine if we were to act that way toward our friends in real life! That would make us such gross (not to mention miserable) friends! Imagine if we saw a guy insisting that a girl is into him despite her repeated objections!
I was so happy when Karma and Amy broke up in that compost pile, because it meant I could enjoy each of them as characters without the queerbaiting (yeah guys, I said it) that always happens when they’re together. Instead, here we are again, with our pulses expected to jump along with the show’s ratings at the sight of the two of them with their faces a few inches apart.
I don’t want to feel that way anymore, about the show or about myself. So, again, this is gonna be a short one.
We begin with, you guessed it, Karma and Amy cuddling in bed, reading each other the letters they wrote each other over the summer but never sent.
AND I FINALLY STARTED TO KEEP THAT DREAM JOURNAL LIKE WE TALKED ABOUT, BUT IT WAS SO BORING. JUST A BUNCH OF GIANT FLOWERS AND CLAMSHELLS I KEPT GETTING LOST IN.
In spite of the withdrawal of my emotional funds from the Karmy account, this scene is just tooth-achingly sweet, and undeniably romantic.
PRETTY SURE YOU CAN GET THE ZIKA VIRUS THAT WAY.