Generations often undergo major makeovers — Blackberries are swapped for iPhones, side parts shift to middle and 2000s-style, body-hugging True Religions make way for wide-leg Levis— but toxic relationships and the fascination with them on screen have stood the test of time.
Hulu’s Tell Me Lies is one of the most twisty, toxic shows on air. Set in 2007 at Baird College with flash forwards to a wedding eight years later, every character deals with a unique but relatable type of toxic relationship.
Golden-blonde Lucy, played by Grace Van Patten, falls into the trap of exploring a relationship with Stephen, an older, manipulative man played by Jackson White, during her first year of college.
Meanwhile, her two best friends, Pippa and Bree — played by Sonia Mena and Catherine Missal — find themselves in unorthodox versions of their own toxic relationships. Pippa’s with an immature jock who ignores her sexual and emotional needs and Bree is with someone who cheats on her and fails to embrace the idea that “to be loved is to be seen.”
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But this isn’t 2007. While our feeds and timelines overflow with constant trauma dumps of strangers’ toxic experiences, Lucy, Pippa and Bree hide theirs — leaving weekly viewers complicit in their silence.
“Parts of that are very accurate to how relationships actually do get toxic,” said Aliza George, a freshman economics major. “Season two is when there is kind of like this definitive point where you’re watching it, and you’re like, ‘That wasn’t a good relationship.’”
A key difference between relationships in the 2000s and today lies in our choice to omit the lies and shame, choosing now to air it all out on social media. Our newfound co-dependence on social media and the quest for validation has transformed the discourse on toxic relationships.
Maybe we are all living vicariously through the bad choices of the Stephens, Brees and Lucys — or maybe the toxicities of love that define our generation are accepted within a dedicated space. In embracing this, have we, as a new generation of traumatized adults, fallen short of our own shame?
In the era Tell Me Lies is set, everything is hidden behind closed dorm doors and stuffed into Abercrombie & Fitch jean pockets. Now, it’s common to find your long-lost trauma twin on Instagram or TikTok as relationships center on openness — both in person and parasocially.
“Now, you can really be like, ‘Oh my God, they’re following this person,’” said Natalee Linez, the Tell Me Lies actor who plays Lydia, hometown best friend of Lucy. “Lydia maybe would have posted in 2024 something … along the lines of, ‘When your best friend’s ex is fucking crazy.’”
With today’s culture of obsessive social media checking, it would have been impossible for Lucy to miss the treasure trove of red flags that defined Stephen.
If she had a modern Lydia or Pippa to do some deep dive stalking — using their bestie responsibility to investigate Stephen’s tagged pictures and following — Lucy might have been able to detect Stephen’s crazy track record from a mile away.
“Today, people are more open about stuff than like before” said Anna Pucci, senior communication major. “Maybe if it were taking place into today’s day and age, then Lucy probably would be more aware to manipulation.”
Many social media users now have a unique fascination with toxicity, especially on TikTok. Comments flood in from viewers who acknowledge the toxicity of the drama-riddled show while craving for more.
Audience members are caught in a struggle against their natural instincts to turn away from the conflict, but still find themselves back in front of their TVs each Wednesday.
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Both Pucci and George said that what draws them in — beyond the show being a good watch and the hard-to-look-away-from drama — is the accurate and relatable depictions of toxic relationships.
Linez said that the show is both dramatized entertainment and a space for people experiencing similar struggles of shame and guilt as the characters.
“The messiness and the rawness of everyone’s character is so authentic to real life that it’s actually lending a comforting similarity,” Linez said. “Vulnerability is trending. I feel like now is the most kind of no-nonsense that it will be.”
Shame has dissipated in modern relationships, opening space online as arenas of relatability. But the essence of toxic behaviors and relationships remains unchanged, ebbing and flowing through generations. Tell Me Lies proves it.
