Golden retriever boyfriend or a toxic manchild in disguise? We’re done turning a blind eye

Remember a few years ago when we all swooned over the childishly charming mannerisms of the golden retriever boy? How we collectively awwed at the sight of Jake Peralta bumbling through cases with goofy one-liners, or Nick Miller’s lazy-but-lovable antics and refusal to grow up. Remember when we laughed off Chandler’s humour in the middle of serious conversations with Monica, or shrieked over Joey’s puppy dog energy, only to grow up and realise he’s never doing the dishes or taking life seriously. Yup, we grew up and saw things more clearly. And we only have Jeremiah Fisher to thank for that. 

The first season of The Summer I Turned Pretty made it undeniably difficult to pick a side, at least for me. I loved Jeremiah’s goofy puppy dog energy, but I also yearned for Conrad’s brooding, mysterious gaze *cue in Taylor Swift’s ‘Lover’*. And I immediately thought of Katherine Pierce’s (The Vampire Diaries) comment to Elena, “It’s okay to love them both.” So I sat with that and loved them both equally. Until I made it to Season 3. 

I can’t help but think Conrad would never do that. Yes, he had his flaws, too. He was avoidant, which is a story for another time.

But much like an actual black cat, a black cat boyfriend would never be so rash or impulsive, making childish decisions along the way. And that led me to wonder, haven’t golden retriever boyfriends always been childish? They always need to be taken care of. Remember in Brooklyn Nine-Nine, when Amy Santiago had to literally remind Jake to drink more water, or when Sarge had to force him to eat his vegetables. Or in How I Met Your Mother, when Lily had to practically mother Ted at brunch, reminding him to sit down and eat because he’d completely forgotten to take care of himself. But my most favourite? When Jess had to hide Nick’s unpaid bills in New Girl, because if left to him, they’d probably never see the light of day.

Fantasy vs reality

We’ve been sold this narrative that the golden retriever boy is “safe.” He’s fun, affectionate, endlessly loyal, and makes life light. And for a while, that works—until you realise that all that loyalty only extends as far as it benefits him. That puppy energy? It’s charming when he’s fetching you flowers, not when he’s dodging responsibility or gaslighting you into second-guessing yourself.

As soon as I hear the word gaslighting, I can’t help but think of Jeremiah from TSIP. He’s the ultimate golden retriever manchild—fun and lively on the surface, but selfish and self-centred underneath, especially in Season 3. He broke up with Belly over a silly argument before spring break, cheated on her during that brief “break,” and then practically guilt-tripped her into forgiving him and marrying him, partly out of fear of losing her. But it doesn’t stop there. Jeremiah knew how stressful the wedding was for Belly, with little help from their parents and a tight budget, yet he threw a full-blown tantrum over a cake and didn’t bat an eye when his father invited a hundred strangers for business reasons. It was clear he just didn’t care about her feelings. These moments highlight that while Jeremiah’s charm feels endless, it’s often paired with self-centeredness, guilt-tripping, and impulsive decisions—classic golden retriever boyfriend behaviour when the fantasy collides with reality.

Why do we fall for it? 

Nick Miller is possibly my favourite of them all (sorry, Jake Peralta). But even he is not without his flaws. Long before he and Jess started dating, Nick always put her needs above everyone else's. Being there for Jess, making sure she's okay after she got stood up on a date, and trying to make her feel better after her breakup, the examples are endless. Even though Jess is often portrayed as the girl who's always caring about her friends and their needs, it's evident that Nick is the most selfless friend in the group, which is what makes him so irresistible. But it's all just an illusion. Nick’s thoughtfulness is selective—he’s amazing at cheering Jess up or stepping in when it’s easy, but rarely does the same for himself, or for anyone else consistently. His selflessness is reactive and often tied to convenience or guilt rather than genuine, consistent emotional maturity.

What we should want

We deserve the playful energy without the chaos. The loyalty without the laziness. The charm without the manipulation. Think of it as the Golden Retriever 2.0: still goofy, still fun, still loving—but grown-up enough to take care of himself, respect your boundaries, and actually be a partner.

So yes, he may wag his tail when you walk in, but if he’s peeing all over your boundaries, it’s time to adopt a new breed. One that’s just as loving, but a lot less exhausting. Because while the golden retriever energy is adorable, it's the emotional maturity that is really sexy, think Schmidt from New Girl! 

Also read: Why the black cat girlfriend is the internet’s favourite romantic anti-hero

Also read: Is the 'black cat girlfriend and golden retriever boyfriend' theory key to a successful relationship?