Peanut Butter Whiskey, Heartstopper, & A High School Romance That Never Was

On grieving the teenage queer awakening I didn’t have.

Hello my sweet bbs,

It has been over a year since I graced your inboxes, so if this is your first newsletter from me — hi there, it’s so good to have you here. You might be expecting some musings on alcoholic beverages for fall or some sweet prose about spritz summer, and while you will get a little bit of that, I am having far too many feelings about Heartstopper to keep them in, so you will also get some queer nostalgic thoughts for a past I didn’t have.

But first, booze.

As the first inklings of fall roll through the air, pumpkin spice abounds and I am tentatively dipping my toe into autumnal-flavored dark liquors — most notably, Screwball Peanut Butter Whiskey. Every part of my bourbon-with-one-ice-cube-and-nothing-else self wanted to hate flavored whiskey, especially peanut butter whiskey, but despite my best efforts, in true enemies-to-lovers fashion, I have fallen for my nemesis.

Recently, my cousin took my neglected bottle of Screwball and poured it over ice and oat milk — a whiskey latte of sorts. It should have been awful, but instead, it tasted like peanut butter milkshake heaven and the only thing it was missing was a squeeze of chocolate syrup. So this fall, you’ll find me making peanut butter whiskey spiked hot chocolate and nursing it all night long. As we come down from a wet summer, I’m ready for nights filled with long conversation, a single decadent drink, and cozy rom-com nights. And that brings me to what this newsletter is really about, a show I cannot get out of my head — Heartstopper.

In case you missed it (or are a year late like I was), Heartstopper is a young adult Netflix series based on the webcomic by Alice Oseman. It’s the delightful story of Nick and Charlie, two teenage boys at an English grammar school who become unlikely friends, and through a series of buttery, tender moments, fall in love. It’s beautiful, it’s sweet, and it’s quite literally everything I ever wanted when I was 15.

At its core, Heartstopper is a rose-tinted story of queer discovery. A boy who knows he’s gay falls for a boy who discovers he’s bisexual after a bit of gay panic and a lot of secret hand-holding. As they fall, they talk about every aspect of their descent — about the fear, the secrets, the neverending process of coming out. Charlie allows Nick to discover his queerness at his own pace, and Nick allows Charlie to feel cared for, to take up space. It is so lovely — and it makes me so sad.

Heartstopper is an exact depiction of the kind of love I craved as a teenager — wholesome and kind. I wanted knowing looks and intertwined pinkies and clandestine kisses in the rugby shed — I wanted my own rose-tinted love story. Of course, life is not rose-tinted, it’s messy and difficult, but I can’t help but imagine what my teenage years could have been like if I had experienced that longing curiosity knowing I was gay instead of trying to fit my mess into prescribed heterosexuality. I am so happy that Hearstopper exists for future generations, but I also find myself grieving the queer teenage love story I never got to have. Instead of listening to that flutter in my chest when the cool girl in my drama class winked at me, I spent my days crying over boys who weren’t interested in me and avoiding the boys who were.

@gracerivers0it is so precious to see it represented in film though #fyp #wlw #wlwcouple #lesbiansoftiktok #heartstopper #heartstopperseason2 #nickandcharlie

Tiktok failed to load.

Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browser

And I’m not alone in this grief. Across the internet, us twenty- and thirty-somethings who have inhaled this show are seeing a past we didn’t know was possible. Some are feeling nostalgic for a life they didn’t live, some are mourning the queer friend group that could have saved them, and most of us are crying about it in therapy. But it has also pushed us towards each other. That is the power of this show. While it’s made me sad and jealous, it has simultaneously brought together a generation of queer people, all feeling a collective sorrow and deepened empathy for our younger selves. I watch this show and I think about 15-year-old me and I don’t blame her for having a different boyfriend every few months or wondering if she was asexual because she never wanted to do more than kiss said boyfriends. Instead, I can love her and I can give her grace for not finding herself until college, under the sweet spell of rum and newfound freedom. I can see her for who she truly is — a girl who wanted to understand love, but couldn’t, not because she was broken but because she didn’t have the vocabulary, she didn’t have Heartstopper.

If you’re still with me, thank you. Writing this has been cathartic and healing for little me and big me — I hope you found some solace too. If you do one thing today, I hope you give your younger self some grace. Even better, pour yourself a spiked peanut butter whiskey hot chocolate and raise a glass to little you, big you, and a brighter future.

Cheers,

Hannah