Lena Dunham's 'Too Much' Is Healing

The Lennaissance has begun by mending the relationship between body shape and loveability, because too much is just fine.

And Emily Ratajkowski is part of the solution.

Photo credit: Netflix

Whether you have seen Too Much or not, the feeling the show conveys can be understood and embraced by anyone. Almost a decade since the last season of Girls aired, Lena Dunham has now penned a semi-autobiographical rom-com about a 30-something protagonist, portrayed by the hilarious stand-up comedian Megan Stalter from Hacks, who moves to London to heal from a bad breakup. There, she meets an indie rock musician, played by Will Sharpe, and the story unfolds as they navigate a relationship in the aftermath of trauma.

As someone who never watched Girls when it originally aired, because ten-year-old me did not have the facilities for HBO Max, I relished the relatability, humour, and unapologetic use of clichés Dunham utilises in Too Much. I cringed, assured Dunham wanted me to cringe in that moment, and laughed whenever she and Stalter commanded, too. And I don't even want to get into the emotional rollercoaster that the second-to-last episode evoked. All in all, I enjoyed the show immensely, as it quickly became my favourite mid-week comfort watch. It also inspired me to give Girls another try now that I am in my mid-20s, and what is another subscription on my credit card? The Lenaissance has well and truly begun.

The key takeaway from Too Much, which I believe will change love stories on TV forever, is its redefinition of what makes someone lovable. Contrary to the Hollywood-esque, uber-attractive love interests whose personalities are immediately likeable due to wit, sass, and humour, we are now seeing average people, in both looks and attributes, at the forefront of love stories. At least, the viewer perceives them as average at first, but Dunham's masterful writing explores an arc that renders the characters as extraordinary. They're too much, not too little, as we have been trained to see these people.

Specifically, Meg Stalter's character in Too Much, Jessica, has become a healing emblem for lovability and body shape, without ever once mentioning body shape. She is a plus-size woman who lives almost ignorant of the fact. When she meets her new beau's ex-girlfriend, a beautiful French seductress called Polly, the only thing she is insecure about is "you probably gave him tight pussy, fuck!", but never once does she mention that she is so much skinnier. The same applies to Emily Ratajkowski, who plays Wendy, Jessica's ex's new girlfriend that he left her for. The issue is never that Wendy is skinnier (and one of the most gorgeous women in the world), but that she worked her way up from humble beginnings and is skilled at crocheting hats (damn, her!).

As someone who has struggled with weight her entire life and felt its effect on my sense of desirability, this fresh perspective was mindset-altering. Jessica does not make a big deal about her size; quite the contrary, she shows up unapologetically, repping metallic and frill ASOS fits and pastel-coloured makeup looks, convinced she's a walking goddess. It doesn't matter if the other characters agree or if the viewer agrees. All that matters is that Jessica feels that way, comes across as bold and confident, and well, too much.

Jessica's love interest likes her for who she is, and the plotline never once dares to question that based on her shape, making this the most refreshing romantic storyline I have seen on TV for a while. There is too much pressure on both men and women to be their absolute best selves, as if partnership were only available to those who made it onto an Oprah interview. This perspective completely omits the reality that people often learn and grow together, for no best self is ever fully accomplished in a vacuum. The funny thing is, Lena Dunham even posits that some people fear all their lives they are not good enough, while some are criticised as too much. In reality, you will be just enough for the right person.

At first, I did not like the show because it made me feel uncomfortable. I did not want to see a bigger woman having sex with a fit guy because I thought this never happens in real life. I thought Dunham wanted to showcase a body-positive utopia that would only cause frustration for those whose lived experiences are the opposite. But then I remembered real-life Jessicas, plus-size women who never made it their issue, their insecurity, or their personality. These real-life Jessicas exuded confidence and beauty not in spite of nor despite their looks. In fact, their looks were never problematic, therefore never requiring compensation via talents, smarts, or personality. It was about time that TV put this narrative on centre stage, too.

As the show went on, I quickly grew over my initial discomfort to even feel comfortable with the way these characters carry themselves so unapologetically. It might seem unrelatable because I barely know any people in real life who are so unabashedly themselves. However, this doesn't mean that unrelatability equals unachievability.

Ultimately, Lena Dunham's Too Much made me grow over the limiting beliefs that loveability comes from looking like Emily Ratajkowski, whose character undergoes a refreshing character arc and twist to her love life that emphasises this argument.