5 Shows I Wish I Could Watch for the First Time Again

By Trinity Barnette

You know that feeling when a show grips you so hard, you physically mourn the fact that you’ll never experience it for the first time again? Yeah. That. These are the shows that ruined me—in the best way possible. I’ve watched them so many times it’s borderline concerning (seriously, I could write dissertations on them), but I still fantasize about reliving that first watch. No spoilers, just vibes, obsession, and emotional trauma.

1. Dexter

The blueprint for morally complex brilliance. I still remember watching the first season and realizing I was low-key rooting for a serial killer—and questioning what that said about me. Dexter Morgan is the most psychologically rich character I’ve ever seen. The duality. The deadpan wit. The code. The finale might be controversial, but seasons 1–4? Untouchable. That initial unraveling of his past, the Ice Truck Killer arc, the Rita storyline—it’s all peak TV. I’d sell a kidney to watch it fresh.

2. Succession

The most Shakespearean, savage, emotionally gutting show ever created. It’s not just about rich people being terrible—it’s about generational trauma, power, and the quiet ache of never being good enough for your parents. I remember feeling physically ill after “Chiantishire.” The writing? God-tier. The acting? Unmatched. And the music—Nicholas Britell, you evil genius. I wish I could go back to the first time I heard Logan say, “You are not serious people.” Because wow.

3. How to Get Away with Murder

Annalise Keating owns me. Viola Davis left zero crumbs. Every single twist in this show is crack-level addictive. It was chaotic. Unpredictable. Intense. But underneath the wild murder plots was so much pain, so much vulnerability. Watching it for the first time felt like getting hit by a train—and I loved it. The first time I saw the Season 1 finale? I audibly gasped. Multiple times. And that’s just the beginning.

4. You

I know it’s deranged to call this a comfort show, but You had me in a chokehold. Watching Joe Goldberg rationalize every horrific thing he did while judging everyone around him? Elite psychological TV. I still get chills thinking about Season 2’s twist. And the inner monologue? Iconic. No one needed to go that hard for a Netflix thriller—but they did. And I respect it.

5. Revenge

Justice. Betrayal. Designer clothes. Revenge gave us the perfect revenge plot with a femme fatale at the center. Emily Thorne is everything. That red sharpie? The infinity symbol? The fire in her eyes? That show made me want to ruin lives (ethically, of course). It was so unapologetically dramatic and satisfying. The twists were soap-opera level, but with just enough darkness to make it feel high-stakes. First-time reactions? Chef’s kiss.

Dexter

Dexter taught me the importance of a code. A personal one. His might’ve involved killing bad guys, but mine? Mine is built on never staying silent. I’ve vowed that no matter what I do, I will always speak up and speak out. Even if no one listens. Even if it costs me. I’ll scream anyway. That’s my code. Dexter taught me how to channel darkness into purpose—and sometimes, that’s survival.

Succession

Succession was my Shakespearean heartbreak binge. It taught me that love is the most fulfilling emotion by far. You can have all the power, status, and money in the world and still be utterly miserable. And let’s be real—Tom Wambsgans showed me the meaning of hard work, shameless hustle, and strategic chaos. I won’t be f*cking my way to the top like him… but the ambition? Noted.

How to Get Away with Murder

Annalise Keating? My spirit animal. This show didn’t just entertain me—it shaped me. It taught me the power of evidence, presence, and pure ferocity. I want to be the Annalise Keating of prosecutors. Destroy people on the stand. Make them crumble with a single question. Putting away the guilty? That’s not just a win. That’s euphoria.

You

You taught me just how terrifying some men really are. Joe Goldberg is the walking red flag encyclopedia. Obsessive, possessive, dangerous—and masked behind intellect and faux vulnerability. Watching You reminded me why I study psychology. Why I research. Why I pay attention. Because men like Joe exist. But for the record? Joe wouldn’t last a day with Trinity Barnette.

Revenge

Revenge taught me that… it’s probably not worth it. “Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.” Yeah. No thanks. Emily Thorne was a queen, but damn—she destroyed so many people and barely made it out herself. Her pain became her purpose, but it also consumed her. That lesson hit hard. I’ve got grudges, sure. But I’m not about to lose myself in a war with no victory.