The Feminist Bachelor Recap: Season Finale + After the Final Rose

This fuckin’ guy.

Oh Bachelor Nation, I do not even know what to say to you. For this week, we may have witnessed the biggest blow to feminism In. Bachelor. History. Like you, I am speechless. I don’t know where to begin, so let’s start at the beginning. We’re back in Arlington, Iowa, with Farmer Chris and his Final Two, Fertility Nurse Whitney (whose name henceforth is synonymous with Patriarchy), and Virgin Who Can’t Drive Becca (who will heretofore represent Feminism). Farmer Chris brings both stellar babes to meet his family this week, and then he must make the Most Difficult Decision of His Life.

Chris’s family’s take on the two womyn is as such: Whitney is a sure thing; she says she loves Chris, she’s ready to get married, and she’s willing to move to Arlington. They are stoked on Whitney’s unwavering devotion to Chris. But they like Becca too—she makes lots of jokes about going to the post office for entertainment in Arlington, and Chris’s parents laugh like they’re watching fucking Chris Rock do stand-up. Chris’s pretty and talented sisters think Chris should “push” Bex to share her feelings. His mom has a one-on-one (that’s what it’s called when you talk to another person, right?) with Becca where she straight-up TELLS BECCA SHE IS IN LOVE WITH CHRIS and it’s kind of amazing. The men of the family—Chris’s dad and maybe his brothers or brother-in-laws?—wonder if he’s excited by the “chase” with Becca; you know how that is, bros. One sister tells Chris, “this isn’t just fun,” and “you came on the show to find a wife; you didn’t come to find a girlfriend.” Which is just like… such a bummer, and not how relationships actually work. Starting a great relationship should be fun, for fuck’s sake! And if we all just married the first person near us who was ready to get married, that seems like a pretty obvious recipe for misery, right?

Chris’s mom is like, “repeat after me: I *do* love Chris.”

Whitney basically professes her undying love for Chris at every possible moment to a point where I find it to be a bit too much. She’s all-to-eager to give up her life in Chicago (“I’m ready to be a wife and a mom—you do things you didn’t think you would for a family,” she tells Farmer Chris). Her go-to line is “I make babies for a living!”, which she uses regularly to prove just how committed she is to being a Wife & Mother. She is basically the Bachelor franchise’s dream female gender role embodied in a true human girl. Becca, on the other hand, has not yet given in to the show’s mandate of telling a dude you barely know that you love him in order to win the game (see radical feminism). She approaches her relationship with Chris in a freakishly similar manner to how one might approach an actual relationship in the real world, saying things like “I’m not gonna pick up my life and move until I’m sure.” On their last date, she tells Chris she’s worried about what she would do if she moved to Iowa, and how she would not “just take on” what he does. She also says she “can’t make any promises” about when she’d be ready to move, which is honest, but it also made me flinch a little bit with horror-filled memories of dudes with intimacy issues telling me they couldn’t make me “any promises.” It’s kind of a dick thing to say, but perhaps those foolish dudes were just not that into me™, and maybe Becca isn’t really that into Chris. He’s all, “why don’t you feel like you’re in love with me?” (aw, poor Farmer Chris!) and they have insane mind-fuck of a convo that includes lines like, “I don’t feel like I know if you know what you want.” Yeesh. I am still Team Bex Till the Day I Die, but in all honesty this sounded like it could only lead to a whole lotta drama. Chris’s last date with Whitney is, of course, drama-free. They ride on a tractor with Chris’s dad on his farm (shout-out to the tractor race earlier in the season?) and Whitney acts like she’s having the most mind-alteringly wonderful experience of her life. He brings her to his house, and she says, “I love being domestic.”

Neil Lane shows up with his handy stash o’ rings, Chris yammers on about still not knowing who he’s gonna give the ring to (“should I even let myself make this kind of decision when I’m in this state?” he asks. Nope, probably you shouldn’t), and fakes us out as per yoosh like he might go home ALONE (insert horror movie music). But nope you guys—he sends Becca home (she doesn’t really seem phased; probs misses her dog) and proposes to Whitney in his family barn which has been spruced up with iconic Pottery Barn lanterns. Yawn. Another victory for Patriarchy; these two deserve each other. Whitney says “pinch me!” excitedly, and Farmer Chris says “be careful what you wish for.” Lolz/shudders. What the fuck kind of joke is that?!

“The rose is just a silly formality now—get it?!”

Flash forward to After the Final Rose: the two are happier and more boring than ever, Becca still doesn’t give a fuhh, the world remains in steady orbit around the sun. Oh and I would be remiss to not mention that Jimmy Kimmel showed up with an actual living cow for the newly engaged couple. He tells them that the cow is named Juan Pablo, and Chris Harrison mocks Fallen Bachelor Juan Pablo’s Venezuelan accent. I just can’t.

Please may all evidence of this show disappear from this earth so that future generations may not find it.

Moving onto the thing that we actually care about: I seem to have offered some faulty information on last week’s post, and for that I am deeply shamed and sorry. I said that Kaitlyn was officially confirmed as next season’s Bachelorette, but Monday’s After the Final Rose episode revealed a far darker reality to be true. Chris Harrison revealed that Kaitlyn AND Britt will be co-Bachelorettes (what, what?), and that:

“the 25 men will have ultimate say about who they think would make the best wife.”

I’m sorry—what did you just say, Chris Harrison?

I mean, I literally thought this would be revealed as a hilarious practical joke the whole time I watched (and I still do in all honesty), because I was protecting myself from the horror of this reality. I suppose I could get behind a Double Bachelorette, in certain pro-feminist circumstances, almost all of which involve Britt and Kaitlyn riding off into the sunset together in a sort of Thelma & Louise without the suicide- or Boys on the Side-style scenario. Or, say, they could simply divide the Pool o’ Dudes into Team Kaitlyn and Team Britt, based on their own discretion, like in gym class (call me crazy, but I’m just going with this wild idea that some guys might like Kaitlyn, and some guys might prefer Britt, and that the two ladiesss might prefer different guys as well… I know, crazy.). The two Bachelorettes could compete separately, while hanging out together every night for Grrrl Talk (with Benefits?) of course, then at the end of the series they could both choose a suitor. Or, okay, The Bachelorette doesn’t have as much money as The Bachelor, ’cause patriarchy, so maybe instead of both Bachelorettes getting a fancy ring on their finger, the final two couples could compete in a Bachelor Pad-style physical challenge. Or they could just kinda turn into a mini Bachelor in Paradise for the season (YOPO!), but wherein only the girlz could hand out date cards in the name of fake feminism.

Ugh you guys, why aren’t we all watching *this* right now?

But no, we are not in Paradise. We are in hell, and next season’s Bachelorette faux-empowerment will be replaced with female competition taken to an insane level.  Goddess knows this show is already horrifying enough, but to make these women compete for the chance to be the Bachelorette while the show is happening, and furthermore to define this competition as a Best Wife Competition is so extraordinarily sexist it may just deserve a special Misogyny Medal. Will we be treated to a full-scale Wife-Off, replete with mopping challenges, child-rearing preparation quizzes, and pie-baking contests (bonus points for every time you say, “I make babies for a living!”)? Who shall best fit into the retro-inspired, extraordinarily narrow Wife role as defined by The Bachelor? Has the show finally gone too far, and can we in our good feminist consciences watch this garbage? What say you, fair readers: If rose is a stand-in for patriarchal heteronormativity, with an EXTRA-large dose of woman-shaming—will we accept this rose?

“Hold back the edges of your gowns, Ladies, we are going through hell.”