Netflix has a hit-and-miss track record when it comes to showcasing sapphic stories – but there’s one fictional relationship that they absolutely nailed.
It’s September 2018: I was stuck at home before university began, and the second season of Atypical had just landed. The series follows a family of four, with brother Sam the central character with autism, navigating the end of high school and the start of college.
Throughout the seasons, the show gives plenty of airtime to its ensemble cast, in particular sister Casey (Jack Haven), whose favourite pastimes are bothering her brother, tormenting her mother… and running.
When she joins a fancy prep school on an athletic scholarship at the start of the second season, she quickly meets the captain of the track team, Izzie (Fivel Stewart), and they get off on the wrong foot (pun intended).
Soon, the two start to see beyond their initial hostility and grow a sweet friendship. In most shows, this is as far as they would take it, and fans who wanted to see something more would just have to settle for their imagination.
Get personalised updates on all things Netflix
Wake up to find news on your TV shows in your inbox every morning with Metro’s TV Newsletter.
Sign up to our newsletter and then select your show in the link we’ll send you so we can get TV news tailored to you.
Not Atypical.
By the end of season two, we see Casey and Izzie both grappling with their feelings for one another internally, and in the slowest of slowburns, the season finale ends in the pair holding hands.
That sense of disorientation and epiphany, and the natural connection fostered between the two of them that deepens into more romantic feelings, really resonated with me as a newly-out queer woman.
Amid the panic and confusion, there’s also this tentative feeling of joy at discovering something new. I can still remember the moment Casey and Izzie gently grazed pinky fingers, and I had to pause the TV and lie down on the floor to squeal.
Of course, it’s also a TV show at the end of the day, and the course of true love never does run smooth. At that point in the series, Casey is still dating her old high school boyfriend Evan, and Izzie is trying to find the bravery to profess her feelings.
In season three, as the show fully leans into this coming-of-age romance, there’s another set of swoonworthy scenes.
One, when the pair dance together at a party and, of course, when Izzie confesses how she feels to Casey on the track field, and they finally kiss (another lie down on the floor and squeal moment).
Yes, it’s messy, yes, they have many flaws, but that’s what makes this representation feel nuanced and layered – especially impressive for a YA show.
Both Izzie and Casey are trying to work out what this new relationship means for themselves and how they are perceived by society in their own ways, with Izzie withdrawing within herself pretty quickly.
This up and down is so relatable for someone confronting their sexuality as a teenager, but the pair choosing each other time and time again truly warmed my heart.
Although things between the couple ended on an ambiguous note in season four, that also felt okay. This was a first love and, whether they end up forever or not, it was so refreshing to see a coming-of-age romance play out between two women that isn’t the be-all and end-all of the plot.
It’s just a natural part of life, and people don’t always end up with their high school sweethearts.
When the show was first coming out, and even now, this is still one of the rare occasions a sapphic teen relationship has been depicted on the small screen, in an impactful way.
Nowadays, with Netflix cancelling and other streaming giants cancelling shows centring bisexual women and lesbians, left, right, and centre, it feels even more special.
In my mind, Casey and Izzie deserve to join the hall of fame with other groundbreaking fictional queer women like Tara and Willow in Buffy, Leighton in Sex Lives of College Girls, Taissa and Van in Yellowjackets, and Shelby in The Wilds.