We Need to Talk About Amaya Papaya

Like the rest of America, I have been watching Love Island U.S.A. every night for the past four weeks. While everyone has their favorites, I was immediately drawn to Amaya. Amaya Espinal is a 25-year-old cardiac nurse from New York City with a strong Dominican background, and she isn't afraid to show it. She’s one of the most authentic people I've seen on reality television in a long time. Amaya never acts like she’s trying to impress anyone, she embodies a “dance like no one is watching” attitude and has such an optimistic outlook on life. Something about her personality feels so familiar and comforting to me.

When she coupled up with Ace and he told her she was “doing too much,” it felt like a shot to the heart. You could see her spirit slowly dissipating on screen, which was upsetting to watch. Amaya isn’t afraid to show her emotions; she cries when her friends leave the villa, when she’s happy, or when she’s overwhelmed. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and I absolutely adore her for it. She’s affectionate and loving, goofy with a cute sense of humor, and she always has a big smile. I could never imagine telling her that she was “too much.” It was disappointing to see Austin react similarly to her affection, but unlike Ace, he never had the courage to be upfront with her (not that it surprised me, I've seen his TikTok reposts).

Last night’s episode broke my heart for her. Austin, Ace, and Zak dog-piling on her in front of everyone felt especially cruel. Zak and Austin had opportunities to talk to her privately but chose the most convenient time to avoid looking like the “bad guys.” At least Ace had the decency to be upfront. It hurts my heart to see her dragged down by average, mediocre men who can’t see her worth. On top of it, Austin’s “do you not understand what I’m saying?” attitude was so gross that it made me want to send a plane to Fiji to personally escort him off the island. I do want to give Bryan a shoutout, though, for standing up for her and trying to help the guys understand that her use of “babe” isn’t boundary-crossing, it’s just cultural differences.

It always pains me to see people shitting on a woman for how she expresses herself through her personality and emotions. I can’t blame Amaya for crying. Imagine being on a hot island with a dozen strangers, not knowing what time of day it is, and being treated the way she has been. First, it was Huda causing problems, then Ace, then Austin, and now not getting picked by anyone over and over again. Zak then seized his opportunity to embarrass her publicly. I’d be crying too! Even though she’s there voluntarily, that doesn’t make her experience any less valid.

Seeing the love and memes surrounding Amaya on the internet has made me reflect on the type of girl she is and what society values in women. You may think: it’s not that deep. But it is. The world has an empathy problem, evident from all the messages Love Island has had to put out to discourage hate towards anyone in the villa. I believe that society hates to see women happy, and they also hate to see them sad. So, I say, screw it! Do whatever you want. Be that “dance like no one’s watching” girl. Laugh, cry, be affectionate, and embrace your true self because, frankly, we don’t have much time here on earth. I’d rather be told I was “too much” a thousand times than hide my authenticity and miss out on meaningful human experiences.

I have to say, as I write this, it’s crazy that watching Love Island has gotten me to think philosophically about life. The show has a sneaky way of igniting passionate debates. X and Threads are a Love Island U.S.A. wasteland right now. We're in week four and only one couple is closed off, while the rest are arguing, lacking chemistry, and some may even be there for the wrong reasons. At this point, send everyone home and give my girl Amaya Papaya the 100K for herself. She deserves a real vacation and a good man by her side who will treat her the way she deserves: like a princess. In the meantime, I guess I'll just sit back and watch the disaster unfold.