For most of my life, I’ve been a one-and-done kind of TV viewer. Watch it once, maybe cry a little (or a lot), file it into the “Emotionally Wrecked” section of my brain, and move on. I’ve never understood people who rewatch shows over and over again. There’s so much new content out there, why revisit old stories when there are 27,000 new ones dropping on seven streaming platforms this week alone?
Then I fell in love with Matthew.
Matthew is a rewatcher. An unapologetic, comfort-bingeing, line-reciting, “I just need to feel okay” rewatcher. And honestly? I get it now.
There’s something quietly powerful about the way he curls up with Bridgerton on a Sunday afternoon or lets Sex and the City roll in the background while cooking. It’s not just nostalgia. It’s regulation. It’s comfort food for the soul. It’s a way to say, “The world feels chaotic, but I know how this episode ends. I know Samantha’s going to say something unhinged. I know Lady Whistledown will deliver drama. I know this story already, and that’s exactly why I need it.”
At first, I’d tease him a little. “Again?” I’d say, as Carrie Bradshaw strutted across the screen for the fourth time that month. But somewhere between laughing at Charlotte’s prudish horror and Matthew quoting Pose monologues word-for-word, I realized it was deeper than entertainment. It was survival. It was a moment of peace carved out from the noise.
Because the world is wild. There’s a new crisis in the headlines every morning. Life feels like one long, scrolling doom feed. And sometimes the only thing standing between you and emotional collapse is a familiar scene, a predictable arc, and characters you’ve learned to trust.
Now? I’ve joined the rewatch cult. I’ve started dipping back into The West Wing when I need hope, Charmed when I need camp, and Grey’s Anatomy when I need to remember that trauma bonding is, in fact, a lifestyle. I’m learning what Matthew already knew: revisiting a show isn’t about being stuck in the past. It’s about reclaiming a sense of control.
There’s magic in rewatching something that once brought you joy—and letting it do it again. There’s power in knowing the heartbreak is coming but still choosing to feel it. And there’s comfort in watching people you love (even fictional ones) go through something messy and come out the other side.
Matthew’s rewatch rituals have taught me to slow down. To make room for softness. To stop chasing novelty and instead ask: what already makes me feel safe? What can I return to that reminds me who I am?
Sometimes it’s not about discovering something new. It’s about seeing something old with new eyes. Every rewatch reveals something different—not because the show changed, but because you did.
So here’s to the comfort rewatchers. The Pose stans who cry every time Blanca gives a speech. The ones who quote Miranda like scripture. The ones who don’t need plot twists—they need peace. You’re not lazy. You’re not avoiding life. You’re surviving it. With style.
And to Matthew—thank you for showing me that safety can come in the form of a streaming service, a cozy blanket, and characters who feel like old friends. I may never memorize all of Bridgerton’s dialogue, but I will always remember the look of calm on your face when the theme music plays.
And that, darling, is worth the rewatch every time.