In Love Forever: 1x08.
Neen: I wasn’t dragged into this. I chose this. I chose you. I chose us.
Maybe to start off Episode Eight, it’s important to go back to how the previous episode ended. Kingkamol was given a platform, by sheer chance and luck, to air her feelings on national television, without anyone providing an alternating point of view or a counterpoint to how she decided to tell her story as the wronged, loving mother who is experiencing the heartbreak of her daughter choosing her wife over her. The show itself seems well-meaning enough – with marriage equality only coming into effect in Thailand in January 2025, it is trying to portray how the legislative change has affected families, with Kingkamol explicitly not appearing because she opposes it – homophobia isn’t the issue here – and she is smart enough at manipulation and framing that she knows how to tell the story to garner sympathy, to play into the societal expectation about how daughters are meant to treat their mothers. She has successfully victimised herself because nobody is there to tell the story about how her own actions have affected the marriage, how impossible she has made it for Runch and Neen to remain happily married with her interference. The beginning of the episode shows the fall-out, and how the public has made up its mind after watching the programme. Att is predictably happy to talk at length about how it has revealed a wrongness in Runch’s character, quoting back lines to his colleagues and trying to sway them to join in on his little witch hunt – but for once, it looks like they think he is going too far in his prosecution, and actually not joining in. Meilin tries to spare Runch from having to overhear what he is saying but she walks into it anyway, and gives him a very effective dressing down, to the extent that she threatens him with a defamation lawsuit if he continues his tirade (many appear to have forgotten that apart from being a wife and daughter, Runch is also a highly capable lawyer, unlike Att).
Att’s irrational hatred of Runch, his whole agenda to destroy her utterly, is given context here, and it speaks to how weak he is as a person that the cause for his hatred is so petty, so ridiculous, that it looks like nothing compared to the complexity of things that are going on with Kingkamol and Runch. A woman he liked dated a woman – that’s it. Sometimes it really is just homophobia, for a man to feel wronged because he couldn’t get the woman he wanted, who then found himself working under another woman who was married to a woman. There is no deeper psychology here except Att feeling he was robbed of something he thought he had a right to, a girlfriend, a promotion, and here he is scheming with more drive and engagement than he has ever pursued his own profession, fully capitalising on what Kingkamol’s interview has done to Runch’s reputation (she never considered how it would affect her daughter at all) when he steals one of her clients from her.
Runch is losing clients and has to reassure herself in a conversation with her boss that the firm still supports her (“I’m just disappointed that rumours have more weight than facts.”), and Neen’s office is facing endless calls from the media about the interview as well, with her reputation at stake in a business that runs on being well-regarded and keeping up appearances. There is a sense that she is trying to keep up a brave face, because she does finally have what she asked for, which is Runch’s full support, Runch choosing her, but what happens when she realises that this isn’t enough to keep her safe from being hurt by Kingkamol, that it doesn’t stop with Runch finally making her decision and standing by her side fully because her mother-in-law will never stop? Even when she is confronted with the fact that she hasn’t just hurt Neen with the interview, but Runch as well, she doesn’t back down from insisting that it was her right to express her own feelings, her pain and sadness, publicly for all to see.
Runch: Her coming into my life doesn’t mean she took anything from you. It means I chose her. And you saying all of that didn’t help to protect your daughter at all. If you keep this up I’ll have to decide who I’ll defend.
Neen seems to think that waiting it out is the best option, because any reaction to fake news usually just puts more attention on it, prolongs the suffering, but her brother reminds her that they can’t really afford not to react. It’s vicious enough that it affects Runch and Neen’s daily life: when they go out to a restaurant to eat, the neighbouring table gossips about them as soon as they recognise them, mocks them when they decide to leave (showcasing again that once the smear-campaign starts, any action is deliberately misconstrued, there’s no correct way to navigate), and Runch again has to threaten to sue for defamation to project an amount of control and willingness to fight back. But Runch realises that she has to do something bigger to protect Neen here – and she does it without telling Neen first, by herself. If you consider who Runch is – someone who has been desperately trying to find a way to exist with the mutually exclusive paradigms of being a filial daughter and a good wife at the same time, a struggle that she hasn’t voiced to anyone but her best friend overseas, a struggle that she has mostly fought within herself – going on a television show to give her own perspective, in front of the public, is a huge step, an an incredibly brave and forward one for a character that usually internalises all of her pain and suffering.
Runch: I grew up under a lot of expectation. I kept hearing “you must be great, you must be capable, you must never let your mother down”. That same strength has made me who I am today, I have never denied that fact. All my life, I’ve been trying to overcome the expectation, to overcome the fear, that if one day, I decide to choose my own life, I’ll become a bad daughter. Today, I’ve decided to choose love. I know full well I must prove more than anyone that I don’t love her because of her money. Because I must prove that I haven’t left anyone behind. My wife and I have chosen to build a life together, based on honesty and mutual responsibility. I came her to say this today not to win against anyone, but to stand firm in my own truth.
It’s just subtle enough to give the viewers an opportunity to change their minds about the interview that Kingkamol gave, a perspective on the relationship between mother and daughter that talks about what it means to raise a child with high expectations and then force them to choose between love and truth and filial piety. It resonates with the post-wedding interview (Runch’s is the coda to this episode) they both gave, where they talk about why they love each other: the contrast between being asked to be strong and bear the burden of responsibility quietly, and the space that love allows to be yourself, to ask for help, to admit to not always being strong.
Neen recognises what an act of bravery it was for Runch to speak so openly in a public forum about the struggle. She says she’s proud of her, and they spend the next few days with their devices turned off, without reading social media or the news, cleansing their house (of evil spirits), making it fully their own for the first time in their marriage (“This house used to feel like a battlefield, didn’t it?”). They look happy and carefree; it looks like a new beginning. It looks as domestic as we’ve ever seen them, as happy as we’ve ever seen them inside their life, not outside on some vacation or in some bubble they’ve created temporarily. And of course, Kingkamol again disturbs the peace, even though Runch explicitly warned her that she is coming closer to the choice she never wanted to make, the choice that has been teased ever since her conversation with her father (who, in his own way, has already realised that it will eventually happen).
This time around, they are both furious and unrestrained. Kingkamol has been so insistent that she has the right to tell her own story in whatever way she likes, and is equally convinced that Runch doesn’t have the same right, that by virtue of being her daughter, she is not allowed to voice her own feelings. She says that in the public eye, she has “become a villain in my daughter’s life”.
Runch: Don’t forget: You started it. So don’t blame me.
Kingkamol: So you really chose her. You really chose her over me.
Runch: I chose my own life. And I won’t let anyone hurt the one I love. No one.
[…]
Runch: You’re still my mother. I love you, Mum. But there should be boundaries in our relationship. Like we’re two adults who respect each other’s privacy.
Kingkamol: Boundaries. Don’t sugarcoat it. In reality, what you’re trying to say is from now on, stay the hell out of my life, isn’t that right.
Runch: Well, if it’s not really necessary, or a matter of life and death, there’s no need for you to see me.
Runch has been so reluctant to take this step, to cut her mother out of her life, to become estranged, and Kingkamol has at every point where she could have chosen to take a step back and give more space, done the opposite, pushed further, as if forcing this showdown, maybe not expecting in the end that Runch would be capable of making that choice because of how she was raised. If Kingkamol were a more sympathetic character (I think P’Kik is doing an amazing job with the role but you couldn’t take her side if you tried) you’d feel bad for her a little bit, but she has had so many opportunities to allow Runch more space, to be civil to Neen, to accept the clear boundaries that have been put in place to keep the peace. In the end, Runch’s decision is inevitable if she wants to preserve herself – any other decision would be self-destructive, take the source of her own happiness away – but having to make the decision still devastates her, which is obvious after in her conversation with Neen, her sheer exhaustion and sadness. I think that this final fight is like the centrepiece of the show, and it is perfectly acted, beautifully performed, emotionally painful. Kingkamol doesn’t give an inch because she thinks she is in the right, Runch doesn’t give an inch because she is acting out of sheer self-preservation, pushed to the absolute limit, left with no other way out. Neen says, after, “We’re alone together now. You don’t have to be strong.”
It says everything about who Runch is as a character, as a person, that she turns this harrowing experience into something positive the next day, wanting the wound – her word – to become something positive. She wants to start a foundation for children who have been rejected by their families for being themselves. “I don’t want anyone to feel like their love is a crime”. Neen says, “That way our love won’t just stay between us, but we’ll get to give our love to others too. If the world is cruel to us, we just have to be kind in return, that’s all.”
In whatever the opposite of the instinct to turn something bad into something meaningful to help other people is, Kingkamol shows up at Runch’s work with food and runs into none other than Att, who offers his heartfelt support in whatever her next move is.
In the post-credit coda, here’s Runch’s words about why she loves Neen:
She’s very truthful. She stays true to her feelings, to others, and also to the feeling of love. At work, I’ve met people who are eloquent, people who are confident, and lots of people who are skilled. But Neen is the only one who’s not afraid to say, “I can’t take it”. And she doesn’t say it to ask for anything. She only says it to let me know that she really can’t take it. I like how she doesn’t try to beat anyone but rather, she tries to be honest with herself. And so she taught me that love isn’t about arguments or proving who’s right. It’s about choosing, choosing to stay by each other’s side even when nothing else is clear. That’s why I chose Neen. Not because you are perfect, but because you are the truth I want to protect for the rest of my life.
(and, as romantic as that is – the idea of loving each other because you can show your weaknesses without fear of judgement, of being made to suffer for it – again, what happens when Neen can’t take it anymore and Runch runs out of ways to make her feel safe?)
Random notes:
There is a whole meta level to this episode, the question about private matters (we have to suspend an amount of disbelief about whether Runch and Neen’s marriage is prominent enough to be judged in a public court, but then I guess Neen’s family is meant to be quite publicly known), about opinions being formed on both incorrect and incomplete information, the readiness to prosecute based on things that are either taken out of context or have been deliberately shaped to confirm pre-existing prejudices. Destruction of privacy, misinformation, fake news, how trending and engagement affect public discourse are all relevant topics with regards to the wider GL world (and unfortunately everything, especially politics, now), and it’s hard to believe that this parallel wasn’t intentional.
I think an interesting counterpoint to the idea that Kingkamol’s actions are not guided by homophobia per se is the question of how things would have been different if Runch had married a man – it’s hard to see her apply the same standards to a husband that she has applied to Neen, in the sense that she is essentially treating her daughter as the man in the relationship, in the conservative, traditionalist view, who can expect to be tended to by a doting wife – which is interesting considering how Runch was raised as someone who had to bear the burden of responsibility, who had to become successful, very much like you would expect a family to raise a firstborn son. Also, a husband wouldn’t have competed to be the only woman in Runch’s life, which seems to be the crux of the problem. It’s not explicitly homophobic but it’s also not not homophobic.
Little bit of a giggle at those Bite Me Yoghurt chews not quite delivering what Runch was expecting when Neen offered her a yummy reward for her bravery.
Mixing memes now but the end of the episode was truly “the two worst people you know telling each other “exactly”. JFC.
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