Years ago, I remember renting Sex and the City…from a video store. Remember them!?

I was renting it for my girlfriend at the time, a wonderful human named Rose. I was embarrassed to rent it, in person, so I kinda whispered it. She was in the car. We went home, we watched it, and I fell in love with the characters, the City, the storytelling, the real, the fun. We went back and rented the next video tape (remember those!?), and this time I loudly pronounced my order, shame-free.

A similar thing happened to me, 20 years later, with…drumroll…

…Jane the Virgin.

I started watching it nearly two years ago, just after the Pandemic first started, with a girl I had just started dating.

I just finished watching it last night, with my fiancée.

(they’re the same person)

Oh, Michelle, this show will forever be a story of us, too—your bilingual Spanish-English, your Ecuadorian heritage, my gringo path of learning about those cultural and familial roots, our sweet silly love for one another, my love for communicating-about-the-tough-little-and-big-things, your love for fun and style and family.

Jane the Virgin. It was magical, silly, occasionally irritating in its excesses beyond “this is a telenovela, right” excesses, heart-touching in its caring and vulnerability, brave in its topical references, restorative in its representation, consistently charming, funny and real despite its excesses…and so, so sweet. It was truly creative. Endlessly.

Among my many favorite moments…the evolving friendship between Petra and Jane…the opening and vulnerability of Rafael (I was always team Raf)…the three mothers, on their porch swing…the overcommunication as ground for healthy relationships (that’s my style!)…the humor of Rogelio and the narrator…this one remains.

“Saaame! I loved that a show that’s so heavily based on cheesy romance was also so grounded and real at times.” ~ a reddit comment.