The pattern of normalizing romantic imbalances within sitcoms.

As I have gotten older and started rewatching nostalgic sitcoms, whether it is Boy Meets World or That ’70s Show, I have come to notice a common formula that plays out over and over in shows like these. There is the usually quirky, often clueless guy paired up with a woman who is clearly smarter, more emotionally intelligent and more ambitious than him. Yet somehow, she still is in love with this walking disaster of a man-child. Pairings like this always make me laugh, and at times cringe, but sometimes I wonder what the logic is behind this romantic archetype featuring in so many sitcoms.

Welcome to the world of subliminal sitcom messaging, where mediocrity in male characters is not just tolerated — it is romanticized. Meanwhile, the women are often portrayed as long-suffering saints, loveable nags or endlessly patient life coaches with amazing hair.

In Boy Meets World, Cory Matthews is the quintessential “nice guy,” right? He is awkward, slightly neurotic, not particularly ambitious and makes roughly three good decisions throughout the entire series. Then there is Topanga Lawrence — intelligent, assertive, philosophical, emotionally mature and driven. She has ideas about the world, beliefs she articulates passionately and has many plans. Yet, she chooses Cory repeatedly.

Now sure, love is irrational and messy and all that. But in the world of Boy Meets World, the underlying message seems to be that it is enough for a guy to just show up. Be there, vaguely supportive, offer the occasional clumsy declaration of love—and voilà, you are a worthy partner. Topanga does not just love Cory; she sticks around while he fumbles through emotional immaturity, jealousy, insecurity and fear of commitment. She delays her dreams, such as going to Yale university, for his comfort. All while we cheer for their relationship like it is a great romance, not a cautionary tale.

In That ’70s Show the pattern repeats. Eric Forman is a scrawny, sarcastic guy with no clear direction in life. Donna Pinciotti is confident, politically aware and has a genuine desire to escape the suburban trap. She is cooler, smarter and more grounded. Regardless, she spends a significant chunk of the series embroiled in the kind of relationship drama that only makes sense if you accept the sitcom premise that men grow by accident, and women grow by force.

This type of subliminal messaging does not just impact our expectations of romance and our self-perception. For women, it plants the idea that part of love is accepting a “fixer upper.” That your role in a relationship is to mentor and motivate, to be the one holding the emotional flashlight while your partner fumbles around in the dark. For men, it can suggest that doing the bare minimum — being loyal, vaguely affectionate and occasionally apologetic — is a perfectly acceptable way to be loved. It can also send the message to men that there is no point in striving to reach the peak of their own potential thanks to the lack of ambition displayed in these prominent male characters. 

These dynamics are wrapped in laugh tracks and endearing catchphrases, so it is easy to dismiss them. However, the repetition of these portrayals matter. These sitcoms play over and over, generation after generation. We watch them as kids, absorb them as teens and quote them as adults. They become a kind of social script.

There is a reason people still reference Ross and Rachel, from Friends, like their relationship was peak romantic television, even though it was mostly Ross being jealous and manipulative while Rachel tried to thrive despite it. In that same show, Monica Geller was a successful chef with incredible organizational skills, and she ended up with Chandler Bing, whose greatest achievement was making fun of things he did not understand.

It is not just about personality either. Often, the girl is more emotionally mature and more successful — and the guy is a loveable slob with great one-liners. Think Marshall and Lily from How I Met Your Mother. Even in a “healthier” sitcom relationship, Lily is the one steering the ship. Marshall cries at dog commercials and gives you warm fuzzies, but he is not the one making hard life choices.

The issue here is not about human complexity — it is about imbalance disguised as charm. The shows rarely explore what these women get out of these relationships, beyond the validation of being chosen, which is a wild thing to normalize.

Imagine the reverse scenario. A show where a successful, emotionally immature woman is constantly rescued by a much more stable, wise, emotionally attuned man. If a show like that does exist, it is framed as satire or “quirky.” When the genders are flipped, the emotional labor imbalance becomes obvious, uncomfortable and less palatable to audiences.

Why is this trope so persistent? It could be because of the illusion of accessibility. Viewers like characters who feel “real,” who make mistakes. Being a Topanga, a Donna, or a Lily requires a lot of grace, intelligence and maturity. Being Cory or Eric? Much easier to relate to. If average guys can land exceptional girls on TV, it gives male viewers hope. Female viewers, on the other hand,  might end up with lower expectations of potential future male partners, making it easier for average guys. 

I encourage you next time to attentively rewatch Boy Meets World or That ’70s Show, or any sitcom show. You start noticing these patterns, and you begin to realize they are not just sitcom quirks — they are cultural blueprints.

It is time we wrote new ones. After all, women deserve more than projects, and men deserve more than punchlines.