Friends Wasn’t Perfect. So Why Do We Pretend It Was?

Okay, we all know the whole thing: Ross and Rachel argued, and Rachel said her famous line: “Look, maybe we should just take a break.” And after she clarified, “No, a break from us!” Ross tried to call Rachel at this stupid bar; he heard Mark’s voice, didn’t let her continue, got drunk, and made out with the girl from the copy place.

Ross thinks, “The relationship was over; we were on a break!” while Rachel sees it quite differently: “It’s cheating, and you didn’t let me continue back then.” And that’s where the Turkish drama began.

From my perspective, Ross wasn’t the villain in this story. Rachel can’t just panic, ask for a break, and then expect it was just a fight. Still, Rachel’s feelings were valid; sleeping with someone else and trying to hide it jeopardises a relationship. Both needed to talk because the break didn’t suddenly come out of nowhere.

But the bigger picture is simple: the break is more complicated than blaming one person, and nostalgia shouldn’t make us side with Rachel or even Ross.

I know it’s hard, but the more you rewatch, the more you will think: “I hate drama, couldn’t they just talk?”

Nobody, including me, saw Rachel and Joey as a couple. I thought: “Come on, Rachel and Ross are each other's lobsters.” But when I watched it with fresh eyes and read what other people thought, I realised something: there was finally less arguing and more of what an actual couple might look like. And I actually liked it because Joey didn’t argue with Rachel as much as Ross did, and they were like Monica and Chandler: an unusual pairing that was never supposed to get this attention, but somehow became a fan favourite. Also, they seemed compatible, unlike a nerdy palaeontologist and a fashion-loving social butterfly.

There was some physical affection, starting with the easiest one: kissing. So naturally, Joey might eventually ask: “Wanna cuddle?” Then it hit me: they broke up! And the reason was absolutely ridiculous: Rachel couldn’t have sex with Joey because she felt that Joey was like her brother, and Joey felt the same. If I were there, I would have said: “You can live in 2026; people can help you work through this awkwardness.”

Honestly, I still don’t think the reason for the breakup was plausible. Two people can be inexperienced or awkward when they first become intimate without that meaning they aren’t right for each other. They could have worked through it. Also, how did they fall in love if their bond was too “platonic”?

Unfortunately, some of us easily ignored this pairing because all we cared about, including me sometimes, was that Ross and Rachel get back together. Our nostalgia made that easier because, once the producers and writers had already established a couple we thought was supposed to be endgame, it was easy to root for them and forget the rest.

We think the story is clear: Ross and Carol were married until Carol realised she was a lesbian, and their marriage ended. And she started a relationship with Susan. Sounds like a tragedy where nobody really did anything wrong, right? Except this is not the whole story.

But there’s one part of the story we tend to forget: Carol was still married to Ross when she met Susan. And do you know what happened? A classic affair. By then, Carol wasn’t just discovering her sexuality. She was already having an affair. Some of you might think it wasn’t fair for them to stay married while they wanted different things. And you’re right. But being honest with yourself doesn’t mean you have to be dishonest with your partner.

But here’s the ironic part: We rarely talk about it while endlessly debating whether Ross and Rachel were “on a break.”

I don’t blame Carol for her sexuality. I blame her for how she handled it. It’s okay to end a marriage. What is not okay is staying married while starting another relationship.

Listen, we all do it: we know there are plenty of weird things in Friends, but we tell ourselves, “This is a TV show, not your partner.” And that’s actually good: sometimes when you love something, you overlook its questionable moments.

It’s rare to remember every detail of a 236-episode sitcom; if you do, you have a superpower! But like the rest of us, you’ll remember Chandler’s jokes and Monica saying, “I know.” It’s like marriage: you won’t remember every good moment, but you’ll remember the big ones.

Take Monica’s apartment: we’ll remember how big it was, but we don’t sit there thinking, “Isn’t that too pricey for a chef?”

So how does nostalgia affect this? It can make the past seem simpler than it actually was. If you watched Friends in your teenage years, you might look back and say, “I miss when things were simpler,” while forgetting that you were being bullied or worrying about saving for your studies abroad.

So when we think Friends was perfect, we actually mean that we loved it with all its messy parts, and that’s perfect.

So why do we pretend Friends was perfect? Probably because it made us feel that way, even though nothing is flawless.

After all that criticism, you might think: “Oh my god. Everyone hates my favourite TV series.” That’s not true; people can criticise something and still love it. You can have a critical eye and still be a huge fan of the series.

I think we keep returning to Friends because it’s like us: imperfect, messy, but impressive.