Most people binge-watch television like addicts chasing a cheap high. They want easy laughs. They seek mindless escape (admittedly I sometimes do that too). They desire to stay culturally relevant so they can make small-talk at the water cooler. I am not one of those people.
I am not looking for comfort food for the brain when I watch a show. I want it to stir something deeply human inside me. I want to feel desire, rage, longing, betrayal, and triumph. I want to experience the full spectrum of what it actually means to be alive in this broken, beautiful world. Shallow sitcoms and trendy Netflix garbage? Hard pass. They leave me colder than before I started (and I am always cold).
My man and I are the same in this. We do not use screens to numb out. We use them to ignite.
I only caved and watched Game of Thrones recently because he practically dragged me to it. Yes, I held out for years while the rest of the world lost their minds over it. I am stubborn like that. But once I finally gave in, the dragons or monsters did not hook me. I actually hated those parts. I was hooked by the power plays, the savage loyalty, the raw masculine and feminine energies clashing on screen (especially the incest part— hot!).
Still, it took his insistence to get me there. When left to my own devices, I prefer stories that resonate with real life. I am drawn to themes of love and legacy. And wealth. No poors for this girl.
That is why Mad Men is sacred to us. That show does not just entertain. It dissects the soul of mid-century Americana. It explores the seduction of ambition. The show reveals beautiful women trapped in pretty cages. It portrays the unapologetic masculinity of men who built empires while quietly falling apart. We watch Don Draper pour another drink and we feel it. We see the cost of desire, status, and self-destruction (cost is not always about the money!)
And then there is anything in the Yellowstone universe. God, yes. I know it is quite culturally popular, but popularity does not make it less true for me. I am unapologetically obsessed with that world. I am all about the Trad Life. I particularly admire the woman’s role in the 1923 spin-off. The rugged land. The fierce protection of her man. The clear lines between men and women. The willingness to bleed for what is yours. That hits me on a primal level. In a culture that mocks tradition, it celebrates weakness. It tells women that submission is oppression and strength is “toxic.” Yellowstone feels like rebellion. It reminds me what men and women were built for. They were meant to fight for something. They were meant to claim it and to pass it down.
We do not just watch and scroll to the next thing like zombies. After every episode, we pause. We talk. We dissect how what just happened mirrors our own relationship, our values, our (potential) struggles, and our future. We ask the dangerous questions: How would we handle that betrayal? What does that kind of loyalty look like to us? Are we too soft? Where do we need to be harder, sharper, more ruthless?
This is what real intimacy looks like in 2026. It is not just sharing a bed. It involves sharing a worldview so deep that even fiction becomes foreplay for deeper conversation.
So no, I am not watching to laugh. I am not watching because “everyone else is.” I watch to feel alive. To be reminded of the kind of woman I want to be and the kind of man I chose. And doing it beside him, then tearing it apart together afterward? That is not entertainment.
That is devotion. I binge because I am devoted.
Kat’s Musings 