Grace, Pt. 3
colin's narrative arc is one of the most beautiful things about ted lasso. poet christian wiman talks about how "one wants in the end just once to befriend one's own loneliness / to make of the ache of inwardness — something: / music, maybe." that's exactly what colin's journey is about.
when one is accustomed to hiding a core part of who they are; or of leading a double life concealing what makes their heart beat; what makes their eyes shine — life loses a little of its iridescence. that's why it's so touching to see the riot of color erupt across the scene when colin finally lets someone in — talks to trent about what being gay has been like for him. hears about someone who has a positive relationship with their sexuality.
there's something so raw, earthy and earnest about colin saying: "i know there are some aches that can't be fixed. but i shouldn't have to pretend like they're not there." it's so true — our scars; our harbored hurts over what we deserve; our broken dreams for a better future — none of it should be hidden. we should be open with our hopes and our heartbreaks — our unique threads that sew together the symmetry of our sadnesses; our brief brushes with happiness. our hunger to be who we truly are.
i love that colin's brief conflict with isaac doesn't embitter him — it only emboldens him; makes him realize that when a person stands up to share who they are with the people that matter to them, the world becomes a better place. and how ted responds to colin coming out — both as a coach and also simply as a human being acknowledging someone's offered truth – is what marks it as an extraordinary moment instead of just a feel-good scene.
initially the team says "we don't care that you're gay, colin" — a response that we're used to seeing on TV. "yes, you're gay. yes it doesn't matter to us, nothing has changed about how we see you."
ted could have easily chosen to let this moment go by — but he doesn't. he decides instead to honor colin's experience, his struggle to become someone undivided, whole, unfractured — at peace with himself. he also chooses to honor the memory of his friend that he once let down.
because when someone shares with us the precise quality of their soul, things should change. and this is exactly what ted expresses: "we should care, colin. and we do. we care about who you are, and about what you've had to go through."
we're so accustomed to assuring people that "it doesn't matter to me if you're bi/gay/trans/queer/aro/ace/demi. it doesn't change anything. i don't care."
except that we should— it should matter. it should change things. we should care about who a person is; what their identity means to them. how much a part of them their sexuality is. what it symbolizes and represents to them on a personal level. how they have been shaped by love; or the lack of it — how they have been molded by the specific hue and shade of their own shattered longings.
it's easy not to care. to receive someone's honest admission of themselves as just something to be accepted; and nothing else. but it's so much more meaningful, so much more intimate — to take a genuine interest in someone's life. to be curious about what being gay means to them. to care about how it's affected them; influenced them — directed the currents of their life. and ted recognizes that — recognizes that the friend who supported an unpopular team could have used that interest and effort from the people he cared about in his life about something that was important to him. and it's that experience of not having done enough that allows ted to hold space for colin's growth. to give him the dignity of empathy and true witness.
colin answered his internal ache by opening himself up to the world; trusting that it would receive him well and with warmth – freely kissing the man he wants to be with after a historic win because he's not afraid to take up space anymore. he's not afraid to be himself — to feel safe within his own identity. and he couldn't have done it without knowing that his journey was cared about; considered, respected — reflected upon — both by ted; the richmond team; and isaac during their conversation at colin's home.
we should all care about what being human feels like for other people. it's not just something to be accepted — it should be embraced, asked about, thought over. it should matter – and it does. 💛
colin's narrative arc is one of the most beautiful things about ted lasso. poet christian wiman talks about how "one wants in the end just once to befriend one's own loneliness / to make of the ache of inwardness — something: / music, maybe." that's exactly what colin's journey is about.
when one is accustomed to hiding a core part of who they are; or of leading a double life concealing what makes their heart beat; what makes their eyes shine — life loses a little of its iridescence. that's why it's so touching to see the riot of color erupt across the scene when colin finally lets someone in — talks to trent about what being gay has been like for him. hears about someone who has a positive relationship with their sexuality.
there's something so raw, earthy and earnest about colin saying: "i know there are some aches that can't be fixed. but i shouldn't have to pretend like they're not there." it's so true — our scars; our harbored hurts over what we deserve; our broken dreams for a better future — none of it should be hidden. we should be open with our hopes and our heartbreaks — our unique threads that sew together the symmetry of our sadnesses; our brief brushes with happiness. our hunger to be who we truly are.
i love that colin's brief conflict with isaac doesn't embitter him — it only emboldens him; makes him realize that when a person stands up to share who they are with the people that matter to them, the world becomes a better place. and how ted responds to colin coming out — both as a coach and also simply as a human being acknowledging someone's offered truth – is what marks it as an extraordinary moment instead of just a feel-good scene.
initially the team says "we don't care that you're gay, colin" — a response that we're used to seeing on TV. "yes, you're gay. yes it doesn't matter to us, nothing has changed about how we see you."
ted could have easily chosen to let this moment go by — but he doesn't. he decides instead to honor colin's experience, his struggle to become someone undivided, whole, unfractured — at peace with himself. he also chooses to honor the memory of his friend that he once let down.
because when someone shares with us the precise quality of their soul, things should change. and this is exactly what ted expresses: "we should care, colin. and we do. we care about who you are, and about what you've had to go through."
we're so accustomed to assuring people that "it doesn't matter to me if you're bi/gay/trans/queer/aro/ace/demi. it doesn't change anything. i don't care."
except that we should— it should matter. it should change things. we should care about who a person is; what their identity means to them. how much a part of them their sexuality is. what it symbolizes and represents to them on a personal level. how they have been shaped by love; or the lack of it — how they have been molded by the specific hue and shade of their own shattered longings.
it's easy not to care. to receive someone's honest admission of themselves as just something to be accepted; and nothing else. but it's so much more meaningful, so much more intimate — to take a genuine interest in someone's life. to be curious about what being gay means to them. to care about how it's affected them; influenced them — directed the currents of their life. and ted recognizes that — recognizes that the friend who supported an unpopular team could have used that interest and effort from the people he cared about in his life about something that was important to him. and it's that experience of not having done enough that allows ted to hold space for colin's growth. to give him the dignity of empathy and true witness.
colin answered his internal ache by opening himself up to the world; trusting that it would receive him well and with warmth – freely kissing the man he wants to be with after a historic win because he's not afraid to take up space anymore. he's not afraid to be himself — to feel safe within his own identity. and he couldn't have done it without knowing that his journey was cared about; considered, respected — reflected upon — both by ted; the richmond team; and isaac during their conversation at colin's home.
we should all care about what being human feels like for other people. it's not just something to be accepted — it should be embraced, asked about, thought over. it should matter – and it does. 💛