It’s in this sisterhood where Queenie, the series, really shines. Queenie’s group chat, dubbed “The Corgis” is where she dumps all her problems and their reactions mirror that of the audience – there are times when you want to hug the character, and times when you want to yell at her that she’s fucking up. Hard. I got to spend a few days with a group of other journalists, media folks, and influencers (the trip kicked off with a Queenie-inspired slumber party) and as we discussed the series in between various activities in London, it was clear that all of us could relate in some way to Queenie’s struggle. We even did a TikTok about each of our quarter life crises that had commenters sharing they felt seen and heard by the discussion of the struggle your twenties can bring, especially coming from Black women. I anticipate that reactions to the show are going to be strong — people want complicated Black female characters until they actually get them — but one thing you can’t deny is that Queenie stands apart as a young Black woman who is constantly failing and fumbling through life while working through trauma, something we still too rarely see on TV. Love her or hate her, Queenie exists in all her fledgling glory. She’s not excellent (yet) or invincible (despite what her recklessness may suggest) or particularly strong (it’s all a front) and yet, she is a Black woman character on TV. What a concept. It might be tough to watch someone you are rooting for get treated poorly by men – white men at that – over and over, but that’s unfortunately the reality Queenie has created because it’s what she thinks she deserves. Add daddy issues on top of that, and it’s a recipe for disaster. From rock bottom is where Queenie rebuilds herself, and finds love — Black love at that – but the journey to get there is uncomfortable. As Brown put it during one of the panel discussions during the press trip, “Bad choices make good stories.”