What 'Heated Rivalry' Taught Me About How Unwilling We Are To Be Honest About Sex & Desire

HBO Max

I have watched the entire Heated Rivalry series six times.

Before you judge me, please note the following: I work from home, I have a tiny TV next to my computer, and I am an elite-level multitasker. This is not “lying on the couch, neglecting my responsibilities” behavior. This is “answering emails while emotionally spiraling” behavior, which at this point in my life feels very on-brand.

Anyway, six times. And every single time, I notice something new — not just about the show, but about the conversations (or lack of them) that happen when I mention it to other women my age… especially moms. Especially straight, married, allegedly “very open-minded” moms.

When I bring up the show, the reactions are immediate and weirdly defensive.

“It’s not because they’re gay,” someone will say quickly. “I just don’t like the plot. It’s not my thing.”

Sure. Maybe. But I call bullshit.

Because what I’m actually hearing is discomfort. Not with storytelling. Not with pacing. But with watching two men have sex, and with what enjoyment that might stir up internally.

And here’s the truth: Being turned on by watching two gay men does not mean anything about your sexuality.

It doesn’t mean you secretly want something different. It doesn’t mean you don’t love your husband. It doesn’t mean you need to “figure something out.”

It means it’s hot. It’s intimate. It’s charged. It’s forbidden in that delicious, fictional, low-stakes way that makes your nervous system light up in a world that's increasingly sad and depressing every single day.

But women are absolutely not allowed to talk about that.

Especially not middle-aged women, and especially not mothers who have built entire identities around being reliable, nurturing, and emotionally appropriate.

There is an unspoken rule that once you become a mom — once you’re married, settled, respectable — your inner world of desire should shrink down to something manageable and quiet. You’re allowed to joke about sex in a PG kind of way. You’re allowed to complain about sex and discuss it in a self-deprecating, exhausted way. But you are not allowed to say anything like, “This turns me on,” without immediately reassuring everyone that it doesn’t mean anything.

And God forbid the thing that turns you on involves queerness, intensity, obsession, emotional risk, or people wanting each other in ways that feel inconvenient and consuming.

The show doesn’t just depict sex; it depicts longing. Avoidance. Power shifts. Emotional chicken. That maddening space where two people want each other deeply but are terrified of saying the wrong thing first.

And that is uncomfortable! Because watching it doesn’t just activate desire; it brings us face to face with the parts of us that we so often try to keep hidden. Parts of us that we may not even be willing to recognize privately, to ourselves.

It highlights how many of us learned to downplay what excites us in order to seem “normal and happy.” How quickly we reassure ourselves that wanting more — more intimacy, more spark, more honesty — is somehow disloyal to these lives we’ve built.

So instead of saying, “Wow, this is doing something to me,” we say, “It’s just not my taste.” Because, of course, admitting curiosity is simply not on the table.

And look, no one is saying you need to unpack your entire marriage because a TV show made your heart race. That’s not the point. The point is how aggressively we shut down conversations that allow women to admit they still have a sexual inner life. That they still get excited. That fantasy can exist separately from commitment. That desire doesn’t disappear just because you become a married mom.

Watching two men on screen have sex doesn’t threaten your identity. It doesn’t rewrite your orientation. It doesn’t negate your love for your partner. It just reminds you that you’re human. And maybe the reason so many of us squirm, deflect, or dismiss the show isn’t because it’s “uninteresting” or “not relatable,” but because it bypasses the emotional and sexual safety rails we’ve built around ourselves.

It asks us tired, committed, well-behaved moms to sit with wanting, intensity, and pleasure that doesn’t come wrapped in responsibility.

And for a lot of us, that feels more taboo than sex itself.

So yes, I’ve watched it six times. Not because I’m scandalous. Not because I’m confused. But because it tapped into something that made me feel.

And if that makes people uncomfortable, maybe that’s worth paying attention to — instead of pretending it’s just about the plot.

Samm is an ex-lawyer and mom of four who swears a lot. Find her on Instagram @sammbdavidson.

source https://www.scarymommy.com/entertainment/heated-rivalry-friends-unwilling-to-be-open-honest-sex-relationships