Here’s something I’m not supposed to admit as a queer woman who proudly identifies as a feminist: I adore watching Love Island. I know, I’m a hypocrite. I value body positivity, diversity, LGBTQIA+ representation and so much more – yet I tune in each summer to watch ChatGPT-generated contestants pull each other for “a chat.” But I loved watching Molly-Mae Hague and Tommy Fury’s love story unfold. I cheered when Maura Higgins called out Tom Walker’s filthy comments and branded him a “coward”. My heart broke for Faye Winter when her worst moment spiralled into a screaming match that followed her home.

But this year, I’m struggling to find relief from the guilt of enjoying this admittedly toxic show, because this year, watching Love Island feels like scrolling through Andrew Tate’s TikTok FYP. The show has always had red flags, sure, but now it’s waving a whole damn parade of them, with no relief in sight.

Each year, Ofcom receives a fair number of complaints about the show. But this time, the regulator is receiving more than ever before. Earlier this month, in just two days the regulator received over 1000 complaints about the show, with Ofcom revealing in a statement that the bulk of these concerned a “combination of alleged bullying and misogynistic behaviour by a number of contestants.”

Alright, prepare yourself to enter Love Island‘s Manosphere with me. First up, there’s the way younger male contestants are idolising Harry (who’s the oldest male contestant this year) and his seemingly appalling treatment of women. When Harrison asked him about his escapades in Casa Amour, ‘exploring connections’ with other women, despite being in a couple with Helena, he said in awe, “How have you got away with that?” (implying such poor behaviour is impressive), Harry channelled his inner Yoda and replied, “You know I get away with everything.. you’ll get to my level.” It’s a perfect illustration of the gamification of dating – something actively encouraged by self-styled “dating experts” who urge young men to pursue emotional manipulation, dominance, performative masculinity, and the dehumanisation of women. Love, it seems, is not the end goal of Love Island this season. Nor is it even the coveted BoohooMAN brand deal. No, from what I can deduce so far, it’s about power and control. And Harry’s “you’ll get to my level” line encapsulates that dark dynamic perfectly.

But Harry’s behaviour goes even further. He admitted to faking feelings for Shakira just to stay in the villa, bragging that she was “lapping it up” – a confession that rightfully sparked outrage. When he later told her he didn’t “deserve” her, it was textbook emotional manipulation. (Genuinely, find me one woman who hasn’t heard this line from a man who’s just wronged her.)

In the “Got the Receipts” challenge, Harry shared intimate details about Helena’s past and bragged about an orgy with a women’s football team. Viewers called him a “hypocrite” and “misogynist,” accusing him of rigging the challenge to his own advantage. Slut-shaming women while glorifying your own sexual exploits is a classic manosphere move – one that normalises misogynistic double standards. Similarly, Harrison bragged about how far he got in the bedroom with his match, using ridiculous football puns and discussing how she “blew [his] whistle.”