As the leader of an LGBTQ+ youth support group, Gary Kopycinski always tells his students: “Live for the best, prepare for the worst.” Enter Heartstopper, a Netflix show about British teenagers grappling with queer love, identity, friendship, and mental health. “It sends the message that the best is possible,” Gary says.

Though Heartstopper centers high schoolers, people of all ages are reveling in the hopeful LGBTQ+ stories. For Gary, 59, the show is a catharsis for moments in his own life growing up gay, like when someone outed him to his family. Watching Heartstopper gives Gary a way to touch and feel that experience again, some 40 years later. “It’s wonderfully therapeutic and healing,” he says. “I kind of cry a little bit for who I was as that young person. But it always brings me back to where I am now, and I just feel better about myself.” Today, Gary has been teaching theology at a Catholic school in Illinois for over 30 years, and has worked to find and create community for queer people like him.

Heartstopper’s healing powers are working. Since season one launched on April 22, 2022, the show has landed in the top spot on Variety’s trending TV chart, earned a 100 percent score on Rotten Tomatoes, and been renewed by Netflix for two more seasons (season two premieres August 3, 2023). Its popularity gave a boost to the four graphic novels the series is based on, which hit numbers 2, 3, 5 and 6 on the New York Times bestsellers list for graphic books and manga last June. It’s a hit, and it’s one that has a message. 

As in Alice Oseman’s Heartstopper books, which started as a webcomic of the same name, the show follows Charlie Spring (Joe Locke) and Nick Nelson (Kit Connor) as their friendship develops into something more. Charlie is dealing with the aftermath of being unintentionally outed to the entire school the previous year, while Nick, the stereotypical popular rugby star, starts to realize that he might be different from what everyone expects him to be. 

Oseman explains her goal in this video on the making of the show: “I want Heartstopper to inspire young people — especially LGBTQ+ young people — to be whoever they want to be, and to believe that they can find happiness and find love and find friendship, because it is a joyful story … everyone can get something out of it.”

She succeeded; Heartstopper resonates with audiences of all ages. For some older fans, though, it’s bittersweet to only now see their lives accurately and positively represented on screen. They can’t help but be a little envious at how different things are, but this Pride, with so many fights for human rights seemingly ahead, it’s a reminder that there’s always more acceptance and understanding to push for. “I look at the healthy ways young people can look at themselves today,” Gary says, “whereas for us, we were in the shadows or desperately trying to stay out of the light.” Now? “It’s a wonderful world that’s becoming possible. And nobody is going to send us back.” 

For some viewers, Heartstopper brings mixed emotions 

For many people in the LGBTQ+ community, watching shows like Heartstopper that tell queer teen love stories comes with a blend of grief and joy for their younger selves. As the Second Adolescence podcast points out, this mix is likely because people didn’t have those experiences or this level of positive representation in the media when they were growing up.

Watching Heartstopper was an “emotional rollercoaster” for Erik Van Dam, 41. Erik, who lives in the Netherlands and is a member of multiple Heartstopper Facebook groups, says that even though his parents were supportive when he came out, the lack of representation left him feeling at a loss at the time. Representation matters because “the fewer things you see around you that you can relate to, the less you’re going to understand what you are and what you feel,” he said. 

Between the anxiety-producing-but-sweet journey of young love, the strong dose of hope infused into tough topics like bullying and mental health, and a sprinkling of animated elements taken from the graphic novels, the show expertly depicts the many struggles of trying to figure yourself out as a teenager. At the same time, it encourages people to embrace who they are instead of hiding — and reminds them not to rush the process.  

One particularly relatable scene for Erik is when Nick explains to his longtime friend Imogen, who has a crush on him, why he doesn’t want to go on a date. Sitting on a park bench together with Nick’s dog, he shares: “Do you ever feel like you’re only doing things because everyone else is? And you’re scared to change or do something that might confuse or surprise people? Your real personality has been, like, buried inside you for a really long time?” 

Erik felt exactly the same way. “I’ve never heard anyone describe my feelings so perfectly,” he said. Erik put his feelings about coming out behind him in order to move on, but that doesn’t mean that he’d processed them. Until he saw his story told on screen in this way, he wasn’t aware that he needed to heal. 

Most of the other main characters are queer, and their equally heartwarming stories are woven throughout the show. Tara and Darcy find out the ups and downs of coming out publicly as a lesbian couple, Elle takes change in stride as she switches from an all-boys school to an all-girls one after coming out as trans, and Tao grows a little too overprotective of his best friend Charlie. And then there’s Isaac, who simply wants to “believe in romance” and read books on the sideline of rugby matches. 

Steven Wong, 30, recognizes that Heartstopper is the kind of queer representation that’s needed in the media right now — and also believes the positive tone and relatable characters would’ve had an impact in his life when he was a teenager. 

“The show would have been such a positive outlet for me and … [it would’ve] shown me the process of discovering who I am, dealing with bullying, and an idea of what coming out might be like. I probably would’ve been more confident, more open … and probably would’ve come out earlier to my family and friends.”

If Heartstopper existed during his middle school and high school years — when Steven experienced bullying, name-calling, and getting outed on someone else’s terms — he says he would have rewatched the show over and over again. Yes, these are fictional characters. But for Steven, who didn’t see any LGBTQ+ representation as a teenager, it would’ve felt like he had friends. 

TJ Hocum, 33, says Heartstopper is one of the first TV shows with queer representation that made him feel seen — and really happy. He was shocked by just how much of an emotional reaction he had to it. 

But a few days after TJ watched the show, he felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. “You wish that would have been you when you were younger,” he says. “Because when you’re young, you wanted to be that happy. And for a lot of people my age, we didn’t get that.” 

While TJ wishes he had a show like this to watch while growing up, he’s glad one exists today. “I know it would’ve helped me a ton to see these experiences portrayed in such a happy manner. And I’m grateful that there are teens now who have a story like this that will give them hope and show that it’s okay to be different.”

The teens are all right 

That message immediately came across to the younger audience. The day Heartstopper dropped on Netflix, Esme Calder, 18, used a pivotal scene in the show to come out to their parents. On a recent Zoom call, Esme shared their journey falling in love with the Heartstopper world. They first heard about the books on TikTok last year, and then saved up to buy them. Their initial reaction to the show? “So overwhelming, in a good way.” There’s something about seeing the stories of characters they’d grown to love and identify with on the page, they say, and they’ve never seen that on TV or in a film. 

The scene when Nick Nelson comes out to his mom has always been one of Esme’s favorites in the books, and when they came across a cast interview that mentioned a moment in the show that some people might use to come out to their parents, they were tempted to do the same. They sent it to a friend, saying “Can you imagine? I should do that …” 

When Esme finally saw the scene, they felt like it would be the perfect moment and decided to go for it. Esme sent a clip of the scene to their parents, watched Heartstopper to relax while waiting for a response — which turned out to be a “very nice” one — and then tweeted about it because, they say, they were proud of themselves and wanted their friends to know about it. 

In the scene, Nick’s mom’s reaction is sweet, kind, and understanding, as she says, “Thank you for telling me … I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that.” No negativity. No awkwardness. Only love. This reaction is one of the reasons Esme used the scene to come out. If their parents didn’t know how to react or what to say, they’d have a model of how to behave. 

“In a lot of media, when there’s a scene of a queer character coming out, a lot of the time it’s shown to go really poorly. And obviously that can happen,” Esme said. “But it’s equally important to show that it can go well and it can be a really beautiful moment.” 

Heartstopper’s LGBTQ+ consultant, Jeffrey Ingold, agrees. In an interview, he stresses the importance of seeing your younger self reflected on screen, especially if you were robbed of those experiences when you were younger. Before consulting on TV, Ingold worked as the head of media for LGBTQ+ rights organization Stonewall UK. He was hired to help the actors accurately represent what it’s like to be a queer teenager in school, as well as make sure the crew on set understood the importance of their work for the audience. 

“I didn’t get to see two boys in school having a fun, nice time and showing that that was a possibility. If you can’t see that when you’re growing up, you don’t think you can have it. The damage and trauma that can do is a lot, so the hope this show will give to lots of young LGBTQ+ kids is hugely important, and Netflix is going to make sure that that’s seen so widely,” Ingold said. 

Older fans are healing their inner child 

Older fans love this show because it maps to universal, timeless feelings and transcends them, soothing their inner child. Everyone wishes they could have had the world Oseman creates: a support system while they explore their sexuality, an understanding art teacher to remind them, “Don’t let anyone let you disappear,” a loyal friend group, and a family that loves them for exactly who they are. Watching Heartstopper is a glimpse into what it would be like to have all of that as a teenager.  

Just ask Ana Pinto, who felt “very small” in her teenage years. Now 26, she says the stories in Heartstopper relate to her experiences growing up and coming out as bisexual/queer.

“The pressures and expectations to be a specific kind of person, the fear that you might be rejected by loved ones, the relief when someone you didn’t expect holds you and helps you be who you want to be,” she wrote in an email to Vox, “… all of that made me feel a sense of nostalgia and relatability.” 

Ana says she can’t stress enough how much she believes Heartstopper will change LGBTQ+ representation for the better. “Alice created something that is helping older queer kids heal and younger queer kids have a safe place where their identities are seen and understood.” 

Seasons one and two of Heartstopper are now streaming on Netflix. You can read the webcomic here and find Oseman’s other work — related to the Heartstopper universe and beyond — here.

Update, August 3, 1:55 pm ET: This story was originally published on June 30, 2022, and has been updated to reflect the release of the second season of Heartstopper.

Part of the Friendship Issue of The Highlight, our home for ambitious stories that explain our world.

Ask anyone who has studied friendship — or anyone who’s had a good friend — and they will tell you: Friendship is an essential ingredient in the creation of a good life. Having friends helps us feel more connected to our communities, increases our feelings of self-worth and belonging, and even helps us live longer, healthier lives. The really good ones provide something that other types of relationships can’t. They offer spaces where acceptance feels unconditional and unbound by the more formal obligations of family — in a good friendship, companionship and care are given freely and imbued with the sense that each person gives love because they genuinely want to do it.

That lack of formal connection, though, also makes friendships uniquely vulnerable to disintegration. And friendship, an underrecognized bedrock of life, has quietly been on the wane in the United States over the past three decades. Last year, the American Perspectives Survey reported that 12 percent of Americans now say they have no close friendships — compared with 3 percent in 1990. Nearly half say they have three or fewer close friends, and the same number report being either somewhat satisfied or dissatisfied with the number of close friends they have, while Americans with more close friends tend to report greater levels of satisfaction with their relationships.

Why are friendships receding from the foreground of our lives? The reasons are myriad. Americans are working more hours, and jobs are increasingly taking up more of our time. Parenting has changed dramatically, requiring more of adults’ time and resources, and making families more insular. Some Americans are more mobile, moving for their careers. And the institutions that used to make up important social gathering spots, such as places of worship, local businesses, and recreational centers, are becoming less and less central in our lives. Increasingly, we’re a society atomized — working, shopping, and socializing online, our phones the primary portals through which we view the outside world. The pandemic only intensified those antisocial trends and put further strain on our relationships: Nearly 50 percent of Americans reported losing touch with friends during the enduring pandemic, and a recent report by researchers at Harvard University found that loneliness increased substantially during the pandemic.

And yet, not all of the changes brought on by the pandemic were bad. Nearly half of Americans reported making a new friend over the course of the pandemic. For some, the period was an opportunity for reflection, for figuring out which relationships really matter and letting go of the ones that weren’t serving them. The wonderful thing about friendship is the promise and possibility new friendships hold: You never know where a new friend might come from, or what they might add to your life.

Vox asked several friends from different walks of life about their own friendships and what it means to make and preserve one in the modern age. We asked how they navigated challenges, how friendship can wax and wane, what role technology plays, and what makes friendship different from other relationships as we searched for the answer to a deeper question: What is the role of friendship in contemporary American life? Read on to see what they said.

—Marin Cogan

The long-term friends

Gail Wides, 65, Silver Spring, MD

Sue Findley, 64, Madison, Wisconsin, and Boone, North Carolina

Gail and Sue met in college and became roommates. They married their college boyfriends, who were also friends and roommates.

Gail: It was September 1976, at Indiana University. Sue was coming in as a freshman, and her boyfriend and his twin brother, who I was also friends with, were asking me if I would befriend her. Little did I know she was going to become my soul mate. 

Sue: We just started going for meals together, and then we’d start walking to class together. We started spending all this time together. We weren’t majoring in the same things, but we would find routes where I could walk her to class and pick her up on the way back, maybe because of her sense of direction initially. [laughs] But after that, just for the ability to talk.

Sue: Gail and I had a ritual where if one of us broke up with a guy, or somebody was feeling something — day or night — we would call each other. I had a little Chevy Vega, and we would go to this restaurant on the outside of town. I remember once she called me at, like, 2 in the morning sobbing, you know?

Gail: We just would put our overalls over —

Sue: Our pajamas, and we would go to this restaurant and we would always order —

Gail: Tuna on toast —

Sue: French fries —

Gail: And chocolate milkshakes.

Sue: And we would just sit there and binge-eat and cry it out and then go back and go to classes the next day.

Gail: They were intense times, but they were some of the happiest of my life, you know? 

Sue: She is the most supportive person you could find. So even when I was kind of moving away from her good friend as my boyfriend, and looking at a different boyfriend, she was really just — whatever she thought I wanted, she’d be like, that’s the right thing to do. And that’s who I ended up marrying. That was 41 years ago.

Gail: She wanted to introduce me to his roommate. He’s now my husband. 

I always feel like she’s the one that gets me to spill my guts. And sometimes I feel like I haven’t really spent a lot of time delving into what’s going on with her. We both enjoy a good laugh, and she’s just so much fun. She’s just the most deep-hearted person. She just has this bottomless well of unconditional love. That’s why we love each other so much.

Sue: I can do really stupid stuff, and you’d just be like, All right, it’s all going to be fine, and you’re great.

Gail: You do the same for me.

Sue: Okay. So I guess that’s something.

Gail: We moved out of the dorms and Sue and I had a place together, but the guys [Barry and Keith, their future husbands] would be there, and basically it was the four of us. 

Sue: We got married first. And then the following year, you all got married.

Gail: At the end of it, they were all graduating, I was in grad school. So it was like: How many emotional things can you pack into one month? We were leaving to go to DC, which is where I grew up, and my husband got a job with the government.

Sue:  We went to Madison.

Gail: I cried all the way to Indianapolis. And then I think I was just catatonic after that. It was quite emotional. But I was her maid of honor and my husband was the best man. So they had a lovely wedding.

Sue: And I was in your wedding.

Gail: She was my maid of honor. And Keith was Barry’s best man.

Sue: After that, we wrote letters. Long, long letters. I’m not kidding, like 12-page letters, on both sides. We would call and we’d look for opportunities to get together here or there. We started on trajectories that were very different, kind of the farm life and the city life. Gail was big on DC, and at that time, Madison was kind of a smaller town. We move through our worlds very differently. I would be out mowing the lawn and weeding and knocking down a wall in the house. And Gail would be reading a really good book — and I would read that book after Gail read it, and it was great, but I would also be out hiking, just living a more country life.

Sue: Any time we would talk about another friend, like in our letters or phone calls, we’d always say, But they’re not really a good friend. We’re passing time with them until we can get back together. 

Gail: I still feel that way! I have an illogical jealousy of every friend she has, even though I have deep relationships of my own. It was wrenching, really, to be away from this person, who, you know … Barry always said it with a little bit of bitterness, Well, if Susie said it, you would believe it, or you would do it. And he’s right. I had this sort of weird feeling of like, oh, my God, what am I doing here? I’m living with a man, and I’m a grown-up. I started teaching and I felt like an impostor. I would call Susie and say, What the hell am I doing? Do you remember? You came to visit one time and we went shopping for my first teacher clothes. I was like 22.

Sue: To make you look grown up.

Gail: When they moved to New Haven, it was such a gift because we could drive up or I could take the train by myself and go up all the time. When Susie had her first child, you know, that was my first baby that I ever felt close to. I can remember sobbing when I left you guys. 

Sue: We shared having two children each, and they’re approximately the same age. And so probably we saved each other’s children’s lives, because we were like, They’re driving me crazy! We’d talk to each other down.

Gail: Susie had two boys and I had two girls. But she went first, and she was the first person I told, after Barry, that I was pregnant. 

Gail: We would meet in the summertime, and we made it work. When the kids got older, it was harder. There was a period when they were in middle school and high school where we didn’t get together as much.

Sue: Because they had things they wanted to do.

Gail: But we always kept in touch with letters and stuff like that.

Sue: Each time we get together, it’s not like we have to really go back and reinvent the wheel. We just take off like there hasn’t been months or years since we’ve seen each other. There’s just no lag time.

Gail: Neither of us have parents anymore, and other than our siblings and spouses, there’s no one that has known me for as long and has seen me in all my guises and extreme joy and extreme sorrow, and illness and health, and parenting and grandparenting, now. It’s amazing. I don’t have to explain one thing about myself because she knows everything, you know? She knows everything. The good stuff and the bad. There’s such a comfort in that.

Sue: We have traditions that we do together. We don’t go to the other one’s house without having peanut M&Ms. You’ve got to have a bowl of peanut M&Ms. That’s how we get things started. 

Gail: We have jokes that have been going on for, like, 40 years that no one else would understand if we said it. 

Also, she knows how to take care of my mother-in-law, and I know how to take care of her mother-in-law.

Sue: That’s how good this friendship is! 

Gail: And now I have a 2-year-old grandson and she has a 1-year-old grandchild. And it’s just so surreal. But it’s just a joy to be able to share that with her.

Gail: She gives me confidence because she just believes in me so much. And there are times when I feel — I’m going to cry — but if there are times when I’m at sea, or just down, she always knows and she makes me talk about it. I just feel so loved, you know, unconditionally loved, and it’s such a gift. It really is. She’s helped me any time that I felt that I needed confidence and reassurance that I could get through something. I’ll talk to her and she’ll say, but what about you? I’m not sure there’s anybody else in my life that I’m — my husband is a very loving person, but I just think there’s no one else in my life that’s always saying, But what about you? So it’s everything in my life. From the moment I met her, she’s helped me celebrate the things that were wonderful and get through the things that weren’t.

Sue: That’s really sweet. I wish this friendship for everyone. I think it would make a world of difference for anybody’s life if they had this kind of longevity and unconditional support and history that allows, as you’ve said, Gail, that we don’t have to back up and figure each other out. We know.

My mother died while I was in college. And coming back to college was hard. Everything felt so trivial. People would be talking about, Oh, should I wear the pink pants or the white pants? And I would just think, Who cares? Why does this even matter? I think I was developing an edge of, like, I can’t even stand to be around people. And Gail hung in there with me, and she also kind of let me have the time and space to normalize what this meant in my life. And that was incredible. Because I don’t think I could have done that without her.

Gail: I’m so glad to have heard that, because I remember that time. It was scary for me, too, because I felt like she was receding and I couldn’t — she was hard to reach sometimes. And I was always, you know, doubting myself and asking myself if I was doing the right thing or if I’d said the right thing or too much or whatever. I’m glad to know that you found it helpful.

I think we went through a lot. Getting married, having kids, watching them grow up, going through these stages, having a grandchild. We’re lucky that we were going through these stages together.

—Marin Cogan

The queer, platonic friends

Stef Spina, 55, New York City, New York

John Pfeiffer, 54, Honolulu, Hawaii

John, who is gay, and Stef, who is a lesbian, met through their significant others, who both were working at the New York City bistro Pastis in 2002. Stef went on to marry her girlfriend, Julie. John would stop seeing his boyfriend, but Stef and John remain friends to this day.

Stef: I can name the date. September 11, 2002. What happened that day would have to go through HR. John was with Andy back then. Andy got off work at Pastis at whatever time, and he and I ended up at Tortilla Flats.

John: It was 2 in the afternoon, right?

Stef: 2 in the afternoon and there were pitchers of margaritas. We rolled into Pastis at, like, 6, and Julie, my now-wife, had been working. She and I were meeting John.

John: I was stone-cold sober.

Stef: I think your hair was the first descriptor. Like a long, sort of a blowout — he was working “fashion” hair.

John: I was just fed to the wolves.

Stef: John actually was like no one I’d ever met before. He was somebody in fashion, and he wasn’t a nightmare. He had this really fun, sexy job as a casting director, but he wasn’t self-involved. He’s just so good and kind and treats everybody kindly. He tames all the beasts. He’s a deeply caring person that just, like, shows up.

When I’ve gone through bad times, like very low points in life, John is this person that took me in and really took care of me. 

John: The secret to Stef is that Stef is actually a gay dude.

Stef: I don’t disagree. My first exposure to being gay was pre-AIDS, gay men on Fire Island and Studio 54. And that to me was very exciting. I do have more of a gay male view on a lot of things — not everything. [laughs]

John: With Stef, the boundaries are wider.

Stef: I think queer friendship is about a shared experience. There’s a heightened awareness of who you are and what you’ve gone through, you know, especially for our generation. Growing up in a time of AIDS, and having really very few rights, and fighting out in the streets so as to see where we are now.

What I find really important, if we’re talking about queer life, is that I don’t want to lose the “sexuality” part of it. Sometimes I think something that’s been lost with the acceptance and the “we’re just like you” is that we don’t talk too much about sexuality.

Sex is an important part of being gay and being lesbian, and I don’t feel like losing that.  Gay, lesbian, queer, whatever identity — sex is part of your life. And embrace it and celebrate it. Because I have kids, I’m stuck with a lot of straight people now and it’s different. It’s much more, like, one-dimensional.

And with John and in my queer friendships, it’s 3D.

John: In life, there’s always a lot of subtext, and with Stef, all that is always understood, right? You don’t have to waste time explaining. I know she gets everything, and I know she will understand every reference. She will understand where I’m coming from in a bad time.

For all the joy and laughter and happy times that we do have, we can be very serious with each other also, and can support each other through hard things like my mom dying, Stef’s mom dying, and on and on.

I think about the concept of the highest of highs being as deep as the lowest lows. And so you need that for contrast. Hopefully you’ve built up the relationship to withstand such moments.

Stef: There was a time when Andy was unhappy in the friendship and sort of went dark without letting Julie and I know. John and I were a little bit collateral damage in a way. And that was heartbreaking, because it’s like losing your best friends. I think it was like ghosting a little bit.

Julie and I had little kids, and my mom was sick. There was a lot of stuff happening, I remember, like, really mourning. I don’t have the same relationship with Andy these days that I do with John.

John:  But ultimately, a new relationship came out of that.

Stef: We talked about it; we really talked it through. We came out the other side. And it’s just not this weird elephant in the room. I’m just very grateful that we did. I’m very fortunate and thankful — very thankful that it came full circle. I don’t get to speak to him or see him as much since he moved to Hawaii [in 2020]. But I think about him daily.

John: And I her.

—Alex Abad-Santos

The intergenerational friends

Rachel Katz, 55, San Francisco

Teresa Kennett, 73, San Francisco

Despite a 20-year age gap, Rachel and Teresa shared a passion for spirituality. They’ve since faced many of life’s big challenges with the other by their side.

Teresa: We have a mutual friend John, who’s my longtime meditation teacher. Rach and I have been at retreats together with John. Rach told John she wanted to meet like-minded people who were spiritually oriented and have more community in San Francisco. He said, “I’ve got just the person for you.”

We just hit it off right away, and we’ve been getting together at least weekly ever since then. 

Rachel: Even though Teresa is in her 70s and I’m in my 50s, I never look at Teresa as 20-something years older than me. I look at Teresa as one of my very dearest friends. She’s like a mother, a mentor, a best friend. … The only time I see the difference is our age is when she talks about things she’s done in the ’60s or ’70s, and I start laughing, like, “Wait, I was 5  years old.” 

Teresa: I feel the same way. I don’t think about our ages most of the time. 

Rachel: In my world, everyone’s like “Oh, T.” Everyone just knows we’re really close. Never once has anyone brought up, “Is it at all weird? Do you ever think about the age difference?” 

Teresa: Rachel is an old soul; She’s wise in ways that I’m not. She’s in a long-term relationship; I’m single. She has a perspective as who she is that makes me aware of things that I’m not always aware of. It’s possible that some of my experiences going through a longer lifetime at this point, they might be of interest to her.

Rachel: Totally. Yes. I learn a lot from Teresa because she’s lived a longer life than me, and she’s experienced things that I haven’t because I’m younger. She’s a big activist, and I learn about what she’s done. I’ve always been inspired by Teresa.

I’ve had challenges with my mother over the years — we’ve reconciled, thank God, and it’s beautiful now — but for much of my life, it was a bit of a challenging relationship. And to talk to T, and see it through the eyes of a mother … she will often share her experiences as a mother to give me the other side of things, and that’s really helpful for me.

Teresa: I had a challenging relationship with my daughter for a period of time, and had sadness and guilt about not being the perfect mother. Rach has been a compassionate friend and helped me work on accepting myself as I was and as I have been as a parent. I have gotten much closer with my daughter over the years, and Rachel has really helped me to develop tools to be with my daughter. It’s very helpful to be close to someone who has similar spiritual practices.

We have such a deep connection. I have a life-threatening condition, and I’ve had several surgeries. I got very sick in 2012. I was in the ER with my sister and my parents, I was so sick and in so much pain, and all I remember is all of a sudden I looked up and there was Teresa holding my hands, looking into my eyes, she didn’t say anything. It was like no one else existed in the room and I just looked at her and I said, “I’m so sick,” and she just looked at me and held my hand. I always tell that story because it encapsulates Teresa and us. She didn’t have to say a word. 

Teresa: It’s moving to go back to that time and remember how much I love you and how scared I was. It’s really hard to think about that. It’s kind of been the same with me. I got my second Covid shot last year and immediately developed this excruciating pain in my belly. I called Rach and Andy (her husband) and asked them to take me to the hospital. It turned out that I had a tumor in my transverse colon. I had a successful surgery, and I’m cancer-free now. Rach has been there through the whole thing, just so there with me. This is a woman who has so much on her plate and wants to make me muffins every week.  

We have a lot of fun. It sounds like we’re going through this trauma all the time, but actually are just constantly having a lot of fun.

Rachel: We laugh a lot. We have similar senses of humor. We just get a lot of things together. 

Teresa: I deeply appreciate the way that Rachel stays connected. … It’s changed my life because I’m more of an introvert. And when I was married, it was always just my husband and I, and I regret that I didn’t develop deep friendships with some of the women that I really liked. I’ve learned to be a better friend and a better person because of Rachel, and that means the world to me. 

—Lauren Katz

More from the Friendship issue of The Highlight

The new movie Stillwater stars Matt Damon as an American father trying to exonerate his daughter, who’s been charged in Europe with the murder of another young woman. Director and co-writer Tom McCarthy told Vanity Fair his film was directly inspired by the story of Amanda Knox, an American college student imprisoned for eight years in Italy over a murder of which she was ultimately exonerated.

But Knox had no role in making the film. Instead, she says she found out about the movie the way a lot of people did: When the trailer came out. She told Today, Explained host Sean Rameswaram that the Stillwater filmmakers told a fictionalized version of her story without any input from her or regard for the actual outcome of her case.

“The way that Stillwater has chosen to represent my story in their story is that the Amanda Knox character has special knowledge and was at the very least indirectly involved in the killing of the Meredith Kercher character, which is a myth,” says Knox, who now co-hosts a podcast called Labyrinths. “It is the false narrative that was presented by the prosecution that has been debunked by evidence and yet is the ongoing myth that is an obstacle towards me reintegrating into society in a successful way and being taken seriously as a person.”

To hear Today, Explained’s full conversation with Knox, listen to the episode above or wherever you get your podcasts, including Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spotify, and Stitcher. This episode was produced by Will Reid with help from Emily Sen. The following transcript has been edited for clarity and length.

Amanda Knox

I thought, wow, they’re telling the story of my dad. And my dad has an incredible journey that he went through to try to save me from wrongful imprisonment over in Italy. Once again, art is turning reality into art. That’s just what art does. And fingers crossed, they do a good job. But at the same time, I thought, well, how are they going to be doing this story? And then I did some research and found out that they were not doing it in the most ethically responsible way. 

Sean Rameswaram

So no disrespect to Matt Damon, but we’re going to spoil his movie a little bit here. 

Amanda Knox

Yeah, I feel I’m allowed to spoil his movie a little bit. I’m sorry, but I feel a little entitled to that at this point. 

Sean Rameswaram

Sure. So unlike the reality of what happened with your story, this movie has the sort of Amanda Knox character, Matt Damon’s character’s daughter, actually hire someone to do something bad to her roommate? Is that accurate? 

Amanda Knox

So, yeah, the way that they present it in the film is that she, first of all, had a sexual relationship with her roommate, which was, you know, I was accused of having a sexual — at least forcing a sexual relationship upon my roommate, of raping her. I did not do that. And I had no sexual relationship with her. And furthermore, in the Stillwater story, she asked some guy to get rid of her roommate for her, but did not intend murder. But that person took it upon himself to commit a murder.

So she, in a way, is indirectly responsible for this crime that happened to her roommate and what they have done in that process of fictionalizing my story. You know, they say we decided to take the premise of the Amanda Knox story, but then, you know, change it in a whole new direction. It’s like, well, that whole new direction fictionalized away my innocence and furthermore was not a new imagining of this story. That is just the case that the prosecution brought to court.

It’s the same sort of story that I encounter in the real world where people go, you know what, there’s just something about her. I bet she’s guilty, kind of, sort of, somehow. I bet she knows something. She was somehow involved. Even if she didn’t plunge the knife, even if she’s technically innocent, she’s probably in some way responsible somehow for this crime. And that’s what is presented in the film.

And that is to the detriment of my character and my reputation. And that has a consequence. It’s not a new imagination. It’s not like they decided to, like, go off in a completely new direction. They didn’t. They reinforced a false narrative that I have been battling for over a decade now.

Sean Rameswaram

Tom McCarthy, who co-wrote and directed this movie, told Vanity Fair, I believe, in an interview that he was inspired by your story and that, quote, “He couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel to be in Knox’s shoes.”

Amanda Knox

Mmm-hmm.

Sean Rameswaram

That being said, he did not try to contact you to find out what it is like to be you. Is that right?

Amanda Knox

Yes. In no way was I ever approached to better understand what it was like to be in my shoes or to be in my father’s shoes. And that, I think, speaks a little bit to the problem of true crime, where there’s a sense of kind of entitlement to sit back and do this like armchair not just detective work, but also empathy work, where we just say, “Oh, I’ve heard of this person in this context, and I don’t really remember them as a person. They were just kind of this character.” I feel a little bit like Dracula, where everyone gets to have their own spin on it.

And I’m just an idea of a person that everyone just gets to have their own take. And what’s odd about that is if I were completely off the grid, say, if I came back from my wrongful conviction and totally disappeared and rebuked any opportunity to speak to my experience, I would better understand the creatives not thinking, “Oh, maybe Amanda Knox is going to have something to say about the fact that we’re taking her story as like the kernel and the heart of our story.”

But I’ve actually been very, very vocal since I came back about, like I said, how my own narrative was stolen from me, how this story has been misrepresented in the media, how the very fact that this is like when people think of “the Amanda Knox saga,” and there’s been a lot of recycling of this mistaken misappropriation of the story in even reviews of Stillwater as people refer to the Amanda Knox saga.

They’re referring to the murder of my roommate, Meredith Kercher, by this other person, Rudy Guede. And yet my name is the name that is associated with that story. And my own story is one that sort of is like pushed off to the side as not being as important as that story. My own story is a very different story. It’s tangential, but it’s me being an innocent person who is trying to fight for my innocence and get my life back for what I am accused of, something that I didn’t do.

But I had nothing to do with my roommate’s murder. I did not incentivize it. I did not have prior knowledge or any special knowledge of it. I did not participate in it. And the way that Stillwater has chosen to represent my story in their story is that the Amanda Knox character has special knowledge and was at the very least indirectly involved in the killing of the Meredith Kercher character, which is a myth.

It is the false narrative that was presented by the prosecution that has been debunked by evidence and yet is the ongoing myth that is an obstacle towards me reintegrating into society in a successful way and being taken seriously as a person. 

And if people want to claim that they are just inspired by my story but that they are taking it in a new direction, then why is it that my name is perpetually used to promote these new imaginings? Like if your story really rests on its own merits, then let it rest on its own merits. And also, like, I think that Stillwater is so, so close to my own story that anyone who watched it … if Tom McCarthy didn’t own up to the fact that it was based on my story, people would call him out on it. So he’s in this interesting position where he kind of wants his cake and he wants to eat it too.

Where it’s not Amanda Knox’s story, but it is Amanda Knox’s story. It’s Amanda Knox’s story when I’m selling it and when it’s recognizably Amanda Knox’s story and takes all those elements that we think are super fascinating and, like, the sex and the mystery and the twist. But it’s not Amanda Knox’s story when it has to do with what Amanda Knox feels about it. 

Sean Rameswaram

Amanda, your story has been turned into entertainment over and over and over again. I’m guessing you’ve probably asked yourself and or a lawyer whether or not that’s legal? 

Amanda Knox

I have asked myself that, particularly when the Lifetime biopic came out, which came out while I was still on trial and depicted scenes of me killing Meredith that they ultimately took out because I sued the crap out of them. I have seen it and I’ve wondered how is it possible? And the reason is because public figure laws do not protect people like myself from having a stake in their own story.

At this point, it’s less of a legal issue and it’s more of an ethical human conversation that we need to have because it has been overlooked. We should be asking those questions. And what is the impact of our art? The measure of art should be whether or not it’s a good story and it makes us feel things and whether or not it resonates as truthful to the human experience. You know, we’re having a cultural moment where we’re acknowledging cultural appropriation, where we’re acknowledging how broad swaths of people have been represented by others in art, right?

And whether or not that has been done in a morally humanizing, ethical, responsible way that’s based in reality. And ultimately, my position on that kind of thing is anyone should be allowed to tell a story. It just needs to be real and human and not at the expense of those people that you are representing.

And what we haven’t had yet is a conversation about individuals and whether or not individual identities like my own are being appropriated or misappropriated. And at whose expense are they? Is that it? Is that identity that you are recasting being humanized and ethically reimagined? Or are you just once again resting upon stereotype or mythology that is ultimately false and irresponsible?

Sean Rameswaram

And you wrote about this. First on Twitter, subsequently for the Atlantic. Have you had a chance to speak to, say, I dunno, Matt Damon or Tom McCarthy — the co-writer and director of Stillwater about this? 

Amanda Knox

Uh, no. But I have extended the invitation for a conversation because ultimately that was my goal. My goal was not to do, like, celebrity bashing. If anything, I wanted to point out something that I felt was overlooked and extend the invitation to have a conversation about something that a lot of people have just taken for granted. 

Sean Rameswaram

Meredith Kercher was murdered in, I think, 2007, and shortly thereafter your life was turned upside down by what became this global headline-grabbing scandal. One positive development between then and now, I feel like, is that you didn’t have a voice in that international scandal. It was perpetuated by a media that was drawn to a seemingly salacious story, but now you do. If Matt Damon or Tom McCarthy or Malcolm Gladwell or Lifetime had come to you and said, “Amanda, we want to tell your story,” what would that story be? 

Amanda Knox

That’s a really great question, because there are lots of different entry points. One of the things that I felt like has not happened since the beginning of all of this is there hasn’t really been a story where I’m actually the peripheral figure in all of these events. Of all the people who were involved in the events and the actions that took place, I was one of the most peripheral people with the least amount of agency. So whatever I did ultimately didn’t matter. Things were just happening to me.

And a story that really hasn’t been told yet is one that centers on the people who had the most agency. So the person who did murder Meredith Kercher and the Italian authorities who made decisions about who to arrest and when and how and what story to tell to the media, these are all people who are making choices that have lasting consequences for innocent people. Meredith and myself and my codefendant included, like I’m totally peripheral to the murder. And I really had very, very little say in what happened to me. I’m kind of a boring character when it all comes down to it. 

Sean Rameswaram

So what you’re saying is if all of these people came to you to tell your story, you’d say, like, there’s probably a better story to tell. 

Amanda Knox

Or if you’re going to tell my story, it’s the story of someone who is processing the experience of going through something. It’s not me making things happen, right? A lot of my story is just me sitting in a prison cell reading a book hoping that that stuff is going to get worked out. Or, you know, one of the stories that I would love to tell, because it’s an interesting one that a lot of the exonerated face is the “Now what?” after you get out of prison after spending time in prison for something you didn’t do.

How do you reintegrate into society again after you’re processing the sort of collapse not just in, you know, your own life, but also your faith in society, your faith that society has your back and that what you’re going to do is going to matter and that you can plant roots. How do you carry on to do even just, like, the really simple things of meeting people and going on a date and getting a job?

These are all challenges that exonerees have a really interesting sort of surreal twist as they enter into the world. And that’s been a deep challenge for me of trying to reestablish my identity after it was stolen and after I couldn’t ever, ever get it back, because it’s not like I came back to a world where I got to be just Amanda Knox again.