Jealousy and Compersion on Love Island
By Marie Thouin, PhD
Reality TV rarely gets credit for emotional complexity. As an academic and as someone who has long identified with “alternative culture,” I used to dismiss reality dating shows as trashy: overwhelmingly heteronormative, image‑centric, invested in a narrow, normative ideal of attractiveness, and built to glamorize drama. I was often judgmental of friends who were addicted to shows like The Bachelor, Married at First Sight, or Love Is Blind.
Then, a media outlet reached out to ask for my take on Love Island and what daters might learn from it. I was curious, so I had to actually sit down and watch. I am happy to say I revised my assumptions and judgments.
What surprised me most was the degree of emotional exposure and direct communication, especially around some of the themes I’m most passionate about: jealousy, romantic competition, and yes - compersion!
A Mononormative Experiment—with Polyamorous Wisdom
Until participants pair up into monogamous couples, Love Island is essentially a polyamorous resort where everyone is dating everyone else. Participants openly confront questions that are central to non‑monogamy, but are rarely discussed openly in monogamous settings:
How do we handle comparison around attractiveness?
How do we build supportive friendships while dating the same people?
How do we manage jealousy and envy?
Is it possible to be happy for someone else, and display compersion, when they are getting the mate YOU want?
The show exists almost entirely to bring up the kind of jealousy, comparison, and reckoning that polyamorous folks often speak of having to confront on the daily. I found that what Love Island does particularly well is frame jealousy not as a personal failing, but as a predictable and normal response to uncertainty and perceived threat.
People aren’t allowed to ghost, avoid, or escape difficult emotional dynamics: Beyond the drama and mononormative premise of the show, participants often, remarkably, model true growth and relational maturity. They have open conversations about emotions, boundaries, feelings, and desires that most daters would benefit from learning!
Compersion, Even Without the Word
What most shocked me when watching Love Island was that compersion was clearly expressed, even within this mainstream setting. Every so often, contestants who watched their lovers explore a new connection would say something like: I want you to do what feels right for you—even if it’s hard for me. Or, I’m nervous, but I don’t want to hold you back.
These conversations are the kind of emotional courage and vulnerability I teach my coaching clients to practice in their own dating and relationship lives.
Compersion is often associated with consensual non‑monogamy, but at its core it isn’t a structure—it’s a capacity. The capacity to stay emotionally present when someone you care about experiences desire, connection, or intimacy that doesn’t center you.
On Love Island, this shows up in relational and communal settings. In this vacation-like resort, friendship is centered. Participants regulate jealousy by supporting each other when their “partner” goes on a date with a newcomer.
Pushing the Edges of Monogamy
What makes Love Island compelling is that it stages big, archetypal, and intense emotional dilemmas while normalizing both jealousy and compersion. Love Island turns these private reckonings into public rituals.
While I would love to see future seasons embrace queerness, body diversity, age diversity, and genuine relationship diversity—including non-monogamous outcomes—I can very much appreciate the emotional daringness and wisdom that surfaces within the show’s normative framework.
