TV shows often what a generation thinks is normal or ideal. Some shows are glorified and praised so much that we think they are perfect. But as we grow older or look at them more critically, we see things we didn’t before.
This happened to me recently when I revisited three famous American TV shows – Friends, Grey’s Anatomy, and Suits. These shows are often loved for their humor, relationships, and fast-paced drama. What once felt funny or romantic now feels problematic, exaggerated, and at times, even disrespectful. This blog is a reflection of that realization.
Friends
Friends is one of the most watched sitcoms in the world. The show ran for 10 seasons. It introduced six “friends” living in New York City. They shared apartments, coffee, and overly complicated love lives. I used to laugh with them, feel sad with them, and even wished to have a group like them.
Now, I can’t even finish a single episode.
Why I Stopped Watching
After Matthew Perry’s death, watching Friends became harder emotionally. But that wasn’t the only reason. I began noticing how limited their world actually was. Like a frog in a well, their universe revolved around each other. It almost never included people outside their group.
They dated within their circle so much that it made their relationships feel toxic and uncomfortable. Take Rachel, for example. She is often glorified for being stylish and bold, but if you look closely, she’s also extremely self-centered.
Ross Geller, the “intellectual” of the group, is another glorified character. But what are we really celebrating? His many failed relationships? His jealousy? His strange behavior disguised as love? The show treats his chaotic love life like a badge of honor. Beneath the surface lies a man deeply insecure, controlling, and obsessed with romantic validation. His relationship with Rachel is unhealthy at best and toxic at worst. Yet, his emotional manipulation is rewarded by the narrative—he wins the girl in the end.
Phoebe Buffy’s character in Friends is often reduced to mere comic relief. Her eccentricities, while entertaining, oversimplify her depth. Her traumatic childhood, complex relationships, and unique worldview are often overlooked. These aspects are overshadowed by her quirky behavior, bizarre stories, and comments that serve primarily to elicit laughs. This treatment flattens her character into a one-dimensional caricature. It denies her the emotional complexity and growth afforded to other characters in the show.
A Moment of Cultural Insensitivity
A scene stayed with me for all the wrong reasons. It is in the episode The One with the Birthing Video (Season 8, Episode 15). Ross and Mona are making out, and during the chaos, they accidentally knock over an idol of Lord Ganesha. There’s no apology. No recognition. It’s treated as a joke. That moment was deeply offensive. The Ganesha idol, a sacred figure in Hinduism, is treated like a random prop. It shows a total lack of awareness and respect for Indian culture. It made me question this: If a show must mock another culture for humor, does it truly deserve our laughter?
Grey’s Anatomy – Anatomy of Chaos
When Grey’s Anatomy first came out, it felt revolutionary. A woman surgeon, complex characters, life-and-death situations—it seemed empowering. But then it just kept going. And going. And losing its grip on reality.
Relationships on the Operating Table
Every relationship in this show is either impossibly hard or extremely messy. Love triangles, affairs, workplace drama—almost every character goes through the same emotionally draining cycle.
Is it really that hard to be in a healthy relationship while being a medical professional? The show says yes. Reality says no.
Also, why are interns constantly involved in matters far above their qualification level? Yes, it’s fictional. But when fiction keeps repeating this, it starts becoming normalized. It’s a false narrative that interns should operate like superheroes and carry emotional baggage as part of their job.
Suits – The Drama That Drowns the Law
When I first watched Suits, I felt inspired. The sharp suits, the clever dialogues, the courtroom battles—it all felt very empowering. But then I realized something: law was not the focus. Drama was.
Mike Ross – The Fraud We Applauded
Mike Ross is brilliant, but he’s also a fraud. He practices law without a license, lies to clients, and manipulates evidence. And somehow, we’re supposed to root for him?
Suits teaches that talent can override ethics. That if you’re smart enough, you can break the law and still come out clean. This is not just wrong—it’s harmful messaging.
As someone who works in the legal field, I know how damaging it is to romanticize this idea. Real law is about integrity, not just arguments and alpha posturing.
Harvey Specter – Macho but Hollow
Harvey is worshiped like a God in the legal world. Sharp, confident, witty—but emotionally hollow. His growth arc is so slow that even his moments of vulnerability feel performative.
Instead of showing real male emotional growth, the show masks it in one-liners and power moves. That’s not empowerment—it’s escapism.
What I’d Like to See Instead
I don’t hate these shows. They were important to me. But I no longer glorify them. I want shows that:
- Show healthy friendships that aren’t built on toxic behavior.
- Explore professional growth without romantic drama at every corner.
- Represent cultures with respect, not for comic relief.
- Portray emotions without glamorizing trauma.
Real people don’t need drama to be interesting. We need representation, honesty, and stories that allow us to grow.
Conclusion: From Binge to Breakup
I’ve broken up with these shows. Maybe not forever, but enough to step back and think.
TV can be more than just entertainment—it can be education, reflection, and connection. But only if we start watching critically, not blindly.
So if you’re still watching these shows and laughing, that’s okay. But maybe ask yourself — who are you laughing with? And who is being laughed at?
Let’s make room for better stories
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