I grew up believing that real life was exactly like those depicted on the TV shows I watched as a kid.

I thought every family in America functioned like the Tanners on Full House, where heartaches and setbacks were solved with heartfelt conversations—preferably underscored by a soft, sentimental melody. I imagined parents as wise and understanding as Steven and Elyse Keaton from Family Ties, always balancing advice with sarcasm. I assumed high school would be like Saved by the Bell or Beverly Hills, 90210, filled with Zack Morris freeze-frames, lavish parties, and friends who always rallied around each other—somehow finding time between school and homework to hang out at The Peach Pit.

The truth is my life was nothing like that.

So why did I believe everyone else’s was? And why did I long so desperately for mine to match the lives I saw on TV each week?

Maybe because, as a kid coming of age in the ’80s and ’90s, I saw the world through the lens of TV shows, where everything was simple, neat, and perfectly packaged by the end of each episode. The characters we watched became our role models, their lives our blueprint. It was easy to believe that if we followed those patterns, our own lives would unfold the same way. But real life doesn’t have scriptwriters. There’s no laugh track to tell us when we’ve said something funny, no commercial breaks to signal that it’s time to fix things. Problems don’t resolve in 22 minutes, and relationships don’t always come with clear-cut resolutions. Friendships aren’t always effortlessly supportive, and high school isn’t a series of perfectly timed freeze frames and moral lessons.

For a while, I truly believed my life would fall into place the same way—if I just waited long enough. But it didn’t. There was no defining moment where everything clicked, no carefully crafted storyline guiding me toward a happy ending. Instead, life was messier– filled with unspoken conflicts, relationships that drifted apart, and uncertainties that didn’t wrap up perfectly. And the more I realized this, the more I wondered—had I been set up for disappointment? Had TV given me a script that real life was never going to follow?

Why can’t real life have a designated villain, so blame is easier to justify and understand?

Maybe real life doesn’t have a single designated villain because challenges come in many different shapes and forms allowing us to build resilience and learn how to confront and overcome a variety of obstacles.

Why don’t we all fit neatly into a role in our friendships like the funny one, the smart one, or the rebel?

We don’t need to fit neatly into fixed roles because we’re constantly evolving. We can be the funny one, the listener, the advice-giver, or the rebel depending on the moment or circumstance. That fluidity is what makes friendships real.

Why can’t all our conflicts end with both sides agreeing, so no one is forced to be completely wrong or right?

If all our conflicts ended in complete agreement, wouldn’t it defeat the purpose of having the argument in the first place? Conflict is about understanding different perspectives and it’s in these moments that we have the chance to challenge our own beliefs, acknowledge that we aren’t always right, and learn to see things from someone else’s point of view.

Why can’t we all have that one defining moment where we triumph, like the underdog in every story?

Life is full of many triumphs, both big and small. It’s just possible that we fail to recognize or acknowledge them because there’s no dramatic music playing in the background and it’s unlikely that we get hoisted onto our co-worker’s shoulders and parade around the office when we achieve something great. But does that really make these moments any less significant?

Why isn’t there such a thing as the “perfect’ partner, someone who loves us unconditionally and accepts our faults as their own, who we live happily ever after with…forever and ever?  

There’s no such thing as a ‘perfect partner,’ but maybe there’s someone out there who is perfect for each of us. Some people do find that person and share a happy life together. However, that doesn’t mean they’re always happy, never argue, or never have differing opinions. Even the best relationships involve challenges, disagreements, and moments of frustration — what’s important is how you work through them together.

And most importantly, why are we shown a world that doesn’t exist, only to be left navigating the one that does?

So, maybe we’re left in this unpredictable and at times abysmal reality instead of the fictional life we so desperately crave because human beings are more complex than the simplified, idealized versions of life we see on TV. Life isn’t always black and white because we, as individuals, are not one-dimensional. Our emotions, relationships, and experiences are layered and multifaceted. The beauty of real life lies in its unpredictability and the depth that comes with it.

And honestly, living the kind of life we once fantasized about while watching TV would be… well, boring. Sure, at first, we’d soak in the glow of perfection—everyone always happy, endlessly supportive, and conflicts resolving faster than a commercial break. But after a while, wouldn’t it start to feel like we were NPCs in a video game, stuck in an endless loop of predictability? No struggles, no longing, no goals—because the moment we voiced a desire, it would simply come true. And what’s a life without something to chase?

Television often shows us an idealized version of life because let’s face it– who wants to watch a show that makes you feel bad and leaves you with an unsettled feeling in the pit of your stomach? These fictionalized portrayals offer us an escape and give us something to aspire to and dream about, even if that dream isn’t entirely rooted in reality.

But maybe the problem isn’t that we’re shown these idealized versions of reality—it’s that we aren’t taught how to separate fantasy from reality in a way that doesn’t leave us feeling disappointed. If we had been given both—the dream and the reality—maybe we’d be better equipped to handle life without feeling like we’d somehow fallen short.

Life was never meant to be like the TV shows we grew up with. The grass always seems greener on the other side of the street, until of course we get there and realize it’s the exact same grass we have–just viewed from a different angle. The actors who brought our favorite characters to life weren’t living in perfectly scripted worlds either. They faced real life challenges, disappointments, and uncertainties, just like us.

At first, I was disappointed that my life didn’t turn out like any of the TV characters I loved so much. I felt like I had somehow failed or that whoever was writing my script had taken an extended vacation to The Bermuda Triangle, never to be seen or heard from again. But over time, I began to realize that maybe life wasn’t meant to follow a predetermined script at all. Maybe it was more like a Choose Your Own Adventure book—filled with unexpected twists, wrong turns, and the occasional need to flip back a few pages and choose a different path.

Maybe the real lesson isn’t that life should mirror fiction, but that fiction gives us something to dream about—while reality gives us the chance to truly live.

And ultimately, isn’t that the better story?