Gen Z: Masters of Flirting, Failures at Commitment?

When My Fault (Culpa mía), the Spanish teen romance movie about forbidden love between step-siblings, hit streaming platforms in 2023, it quickly became a guilty pleasure for many, especially for a generation addicted to escapism and unrealistic love stories. But as we dive into its sequel that was released in late December last year, Your Fault (Culpa tuya), it’s hard not to feel a sense of déjà vu—this is yet another classic example of a teen romance franchise that’s gone off the rails. And if I’m honest, it’s a pattern that Generation Z lovers of cinema, literature, and now TikTok, can’t seem to escape: the sequel crash.

I’ll be blunt: I’ve had my own issues with writing “happily ever after” endings for my stories—so I get it.

But! This isn’t just about storytelling or keeping the “after” part interesting once the characters have to actually live with each other. The problem with Your Fault—and, honestly, with my own writing—is that it reflects something bigger: Gen Z’s relationship patterns. We thrive on the chase, the tension, and the passion. But when it comes to sustaining love or building a stable relationship, that’s where things all fall apart.

At its core, Your Fault is a nostalgic fantasy for Gen Z. The allure of forbidden love, steeped in the heat of passion and adolescent rebellion, is a familiar trope, but one that still resonates. Two young step-siblings—Noah and Nick—are caught in a whirlwind of attraction, despite the overwhelming complications of their newly merged families. It’s that forbidden love taboo that gives their story the adrenaline kick it needs. But once that initial tension subsides, we’re left with a plot riddled with clichés.

Look at the flood of screen adaptations based on teen romance web novels, which embrace the idea of wild, youthful passion—and though they mostly end with a happy conclusion, they still feel like a letdown to the audience. From film series like After, to Through My Window, and now Culpables—their sequels carry the same unfortunate theme: the moment the initial magic of love dissipates, the relationship between the protagonists devolves into a game of who-can-screw-the-other-over-the-hardest. Each new complication—an unexpected pregnancy, an old flame, a car crash, or even a trivial argument—pushes the relationship to its breaking point, only for it to be suddenly fixed. Nothing changes, and no one learns anything.

This is where Your Fault and all those familiar teen romances fail. The initial allure of Nick and Noah’s relationship lies in the taboo nature of their bond and how they navigate and break those boundaries. But the story quickly veers off course, devolving into a clichéd melodrama of misunderstandings, jealousy, and toxic dynamics. And it’s not just their fault—because, honestly, even we, the audience, don’t know how to move forward in relationships ourselves.

This might sound harsh, but it’s true—these stories reflect our emotional chaos and relational incompetence. Gen Z, in particular, has a reputation for being masters of flirtation but failures at commitment. Speaking as one myself, it’s not that we don’t want real relationships, but we’re living in an era where relationships are commodified, where the swipe culture prevails, and where instant gratification often trumps long-term commitment. Throw in the pressure of social media, the fear of vulnerability, and the weight of previous emotional baggage (whether due to personal reasons or past relationships), and it’s no wonder that, when we’re finally able to commit ourselves to something, we’re often not ready for what comes next.

We’re a generation that’s grown up on stories of love without the nuances of healthy relationship development. From unrealistic rom-coms to influencers projecting their picture-perfect lives online, we’re constantly fed the idea that love should be intense, fast, and all-consuming. But what about its alternative—the gentle, everyday love that’s built on problem-solving and enduring commitment? That’s something Your Fault should have touched on—but instead, it opts for cranking up the drama, forcing its characters into situations that are meant to evoke gasps and tears but come off as increasingly unrealistic.

As a Gen Z myself, I can’t help but feel a little seen in these films. I mean, who among us hasn’t felt the heat of an intense crush or relationship that seemed like it’d last forever, only to be left picking up the pieces when it didn’t?

Maybe the upcoming third installment will also fail to deliver a satisfying continuation of the love story, but at least it did one thing right: it made me think about how quickly we can go from infatuation to destruction in the world of modern love.

Whether it’s the toxic patterns that’ve come to define our relationships or the unrealistic standards set by social media and entertainment, it’s clear that the road to commitment for this generation is paved with as much uncertainty as it is with passion. If we’re lucky, we might find a way to navigate these emotional minefields and come out stronger. But if not, well, we’ll have plenty of films like this to remind us of what we all know too well: the thrill of falling in love, the inability to resolve conflicts, and the inevitable crash when love falls apart.