Six episodes into the season, Sam Levinson has once again proven that the most taboo stories are often the most effective. Despite widespread backlash online, many viewers seem to be missing the point of “Euphoria’s” newest season: these are no longer the same teenagers we met in seasons 1 and 2, and the discomfort viewers feel while watching is intentional.

This season is filled with disturbing storylines involving sex work, exploitation, addiction, violence and abuse. Jules is financially dependent on a plastic surgeon who funds her lifestyle. Rue, formerly trapped as a drug mule for a neo-Nazi family, now works for a businessman who profits from the exploitation of vulnerable women. Cassie becomes entangled in a form of online sexual exploitation through her OnlyFans fame.

On the surface, these storylines appear shocking for the sake of controversy and reaction —  however, they represent the lives of many people who live within the modern era. 

Much of the criticism surrounding the season centers on its persistent portrayal of the female body through the male gaze —  and that criticism is understandable. The women of “Euphoria” are constantly sexualized, controlled and abused by the men around them.

But, this discomfort begs the audience to ask why Levinson chose this portrayal. Does he want us to feel disturbed? Absolutely. Rather than glamorizing the lives of these women, season three forces its viewers to confront the grown-up narratives of how sex work, exploitation and abuse have become embedded in modern society. 

The realities reflected in the show are not nearly as fictional as many viewers would like to believe. There are almost 1.3 million active creators on OnlyFans, many of whom financially rely on the platform. Sex trafficking remains a persistent issue, particularly within industries that benefit from the capitalization of women’s bodies. The strip club run by Alamo mirrors patterns of manipulation and abuse that victims experience in real life every day.

What makes the audience especially uncomfortable is not that these women are dependent on men, but that the series refuses to shield viewers from the violence and exploitation that is embedded within these relationships.

Kitty, the newest member of the Silver Slipper, is constantly assaulted within her profession. Rue fears for her safety under the control of Alamo and his dangerous men. Jules’ livelihood depends entirely on appeasing her wealthy and more powerful sugar daddy. Cassie’s survival — and that of her disgraced husband’s —  becomes dependent on the usage of her body for profit. 

Yet, much of the public conversation surrounding the season focuses on criticizing the portrayal of the women themselves rather than examining the men and systems responsible for their suffering. Instead of asking why these female characters are portrayed this way, viewers should ask why so many real women experience similar exploitation in the first place. 

“Euphoria” is exaggerated, but exaggeration has always been one of television’s most effective tools for exposing uncomfortable truths. Levinson is not asking audiences to admire the dynamics portrayed in the show, he is forcing us to confront them.