On TV, Black love is rarely given enough screen time — and when it is, it’s often centered on trauma and pain. That’s why my group chats have been going crazy for Netflix’s “Forever”, a modern take on Judy Blume’s classic novel. Reimagined under the helm of “Girlfriends” creator Mara Brock Akil, this version, set in Los Angeles, centers on two Black teens as they navigate friendship, dating, first love, and letting go.
Black love isn’t rooted in pain here — instead, joy is front and center. It’s what’s been missing on television: Black love in its fullness. The awkwardness, the sweetness, the messiness, the softness — it’s all there. And when harm does occur, we’re able to see the complexity of navigating it. We see these characters as whole human beings, not reduced to tropes or stereotypes.
The show itself, and their relationship, is tender, soft, and full of care.
If you haven’t binged it yet, “Forever” follows childhood friends teens Keisha (Lovie Simone) and Justin (Michael Cooper Jr.), who are reintroduced to each other as teenagers at a New Year’s Eve party. As they begin a romantic relationship, we see them stumble and go through the ups and downs of dating and self-discovery in those classic teenage years. The show itself, and their relationship, is tender, soft, and full of care.
As a Black woman, an educator, and a mother to a teenage daughter, “Forever” hit me deeply. The show offers something rare and vital: a multi-generational watch that opens the door to conversations around family, community, relationships, sex, and coming into self, all through the lens of Black love. Not just romantic love — but love of self, love of family, and love of community.
From Justin taking Keisha to get her hair braided (a true cultural expression of love), to the couple attending Black prom together (a rite of passage for us), to the couple losing their virginity to each other on Martha’s Vineyard (a place known as a haven for Black people for generations) — it was all deeply intentional.
And what might be one of the most nuanced and rarest aspects of the show is how Black love is expressed through the full and loving presence of parents. Their parents are present, involved, and connected — models for Keisha and Justin on how to care for each other. As a mom, I found myself wondering if I would have similar reactions to Justin’s parents, Dawn and Eric. The show is an important reminder of the pressures teens are dealing with today, from social media to dating to the college admission process. And for us parents, it’s a reminder that we can show up for our children by keeping the lines of communication open, being actively present in their lives, giving them space and grace to make mistakes without judgment, and modeling what healthy relationships look like.
As the season ends, Keisha and Justin decide to go their separate ways, but even the breakup reflects how they preserve each other’s humanity. The nuance of watching Justin and Keisha find their voices — and ultimately choose themselves — is a beautiful, layered unfolding. It reminds us that love, when done right, doesn’t erase you. It returns you to who you’ve always been.
“Forever” resonates with so many of us — it has my mom group chats buzzing — because it is Black love in abundance: honest, raw, unapologetic, not concerned with the white gaze, just Black, beautiful, and infinite. “Forever” isn’t just a show. It’s a cultural reset for what expansive, authentic, and unapologetic representation of Black identity means.
You can’t help but smile when watching “Forever.” As Justin shares in Episode 1, “It feels good to be seen,” and indeed it does. “Forever” sees us and loves us back, and yes, in 2025, seeing Black love shown with this much care and softness is timely, necessary, and — dare I say — revolutionary.
