The Summer I Turned Pretty has become a cultural phenomenon and an obsession for women of a certain vintage – Édaein O' Connell explains why this is.
2025 will be forever known as the summer millennial women went feral for a teenage love story.
Maybe it was the humidity, the state of our world at large or an acute case of boredom, but since July 15, our minds, no, our entire lives, have been consumed by Belly Conklin and Jeremiah and Conrad Fisher.
The Summer I Turned Pretty has been nothing short of a phenomenon. Think pieces, TikTok edits and entire podcast episodes have been dedicated to the love triangle that has gripped the hearts of women everywhere and shattered it into pieces while simultaneously putting it back together.
In theory, it shouldn’t work. Objectively, the storyline is depraved. Belly, our protagonist, falls for two brothers, and over the course of several summers, we witness this love triangle unfold. Their mothers are best friends. Belly has known these boys all her life. From episode one, it’s clear that she and Conrad (the older, better-looking brother) are meant to be. However, amidst deep grief and anxiety, Conrad pulls away from her, despite loving her deeply. Almost immediately, she hops onto the lap of Conrad’s little brother, Jeremiah, and, to be brutally honest, tears a family apart.
It’s high drama set against the beautiful, spine-tingling, wistful backdrop of a Cape Cod summer.
For the past few weeks, my entire life has been consumed by these youthful characters and their high jinks and love confessions. I can’t think about anything else. Every Tuesday feels like Christmas Eve, and every Wednesday morning is a Christmas Day.
The rest of my week is consumed by watching deep-dive videos unpacking the symbolism of colours and numbers in the show. It honestly feels like I’m cramming for my English Leaving Cert all over again. I’m constantly on edge about the ending – will Belly and Conrad finally end up together? My friends and I send each other full-blown voice note essays, dissecting every possible outcome, predicting how our hearts will shrivel if the finale doesn’t deliver, and debating why Conrad Fisher can’t be our boyfriend, too.
Fandoms are all well and good. Teenage obsessions are practically a rite of passage. We’ve had Twilight, One Direction and countless others. The problem this time? I’m 30 years old. And I’m not alone, one of the show’s most devoted age demographics seems to be women in their 30s and 40s.
So, what is it about this young adult series that has enthralled our hearts and minds?
View this post on Instagram
At its core, the show blends nostalgia, relatability, and escapism. It stirs up a longing for those endless summers of our youth, when time felt limitless and first love overshadowed everything else. And in Belly, we catch glimpses of ourselves, even in the moments that frustrate us most.
It’s a coming-of-age story, one we’ve all lived through in some form. Belly wrestles with her identity and her choices, stumbling into adulthood in a messy, impulsive way, rarely pausing to consider how her actions ripple out to those around her. It’s eerily familiar.
Then there’s the love story. More than anything else, The Summer I Turned Pretty is an ode to classic romance, the kind charged with longing not seen since the days of Pride and Prejudice. It borrows from the great traditions of the genre: the aching love triangle, the slow-burning tension, the question of whether first love can ever truly last. It’s sweeping and tangled and maddening.
Conrad Fisher is carrying the weight of yearning on his young shoulders. No one is pining like him in the modern era. He embodies that timeless archetype, the brooding, complicated love interest whose silences speak louder than words. Every glance, every pause, feels loaded with unspoken emotion. He’s a man obsessed. It’s as if he’s the very first man to ever ache with longing, and we, as viewers, can’t help but project our own memories of impossible crushes onto him.
The show taps into the universal desire to be chosen, to be fought for, to be loved with intensity. To have a man who writes letters from across the ocean, who stays steadfast in his devotion even as you break his heart again and again, a man whose sole purpose seems to be your happiness.
Maybe our obsession stems from the fact that we rarely get this kind of love in real life, and even the films and TV shows of the genre we’ve consumed in recent years lean toward love that is too grounded and a little too realistic. Modern romances on screen often mirror the messy, complicated relationships we already know all too well. But sometimes, you don’t want reality.
Sometimes, you just want to be swept up in a love story, the kind where passion outweighs logic, where a tale of a girl caught between two brothers doesn’t feel ludicrous but somehow entirely plausible.
The show has reminded us of a spark we didn’t even realise was missing. It’s breathing new life into a beloved art form, reviving the magic of classic romance.
And in doing so, it has made this a summer of utterly unforgettable and wonderfully enjoyable television viewing.
Also Read
