In the last two months I’ve quit my job, had pneumonia, moved back in with my parents due to my my mother’s breast cancer diagnosis, and cried in public four times. So I’ve done what I always do when life gets rough – I’ve started watching Girlfriends.

I’m a bit obsessed with the sitcom. It’s a laugh-track-filled half hour, in which the characters are just as likely to burst out into song as they are to share their uninhibited sexual pasts. Nothing can undermine my connection to Joan’s impeccably decorated home, with its bright, big windows and soothing palette.

I was 10 years-old the first time I watched Girlfriends. It was a hard year, but the highlight of each week was Monday at 9pm, when Girlfriends would air on UPN. I’d wash up after dinner and settle down on the couch in our dark living room, the television screen my only source of light.

At the time, my attraction to Girlfriends was part escapism, part hope. The show sold the power of close female friendships even in life’s toughest moments during its opening credits: “Girlfriends! There through thick and thin.” But that’s not the only thing I saw. Joan, Maya, Lynn, and Toni lived in Los Angeles, wore stylish ensembles, (mostly) worked at jobs they (mostly) loved, ate out every night and were, of course, beautiful. To a prepubescent, insecure grade-schooler, the fantasy looked pretty good.

But it was more than that. The Girlfriends’ cushy lifestyle still looked attainable, at least to a kid. And even better there were no overbearing student loan collectors, no 10.4% unemployment rate, no recession.

I’m in my twenties now, and I’ve been lucky enough to do some wonderful things so far. But now I’m unemployed in Atlanta, and saddled with student loan debt, so I’m applying for retail jobs and watching Girlfriends. Thirteen years later, my attraction to the show is still part escapism and part hope. It’s nice to remember that time, a time when my own adulthood was as much a fantasy as that half hour on UPN.

But it’s more than that: I see the grown-up scenarios those episodes advertised now. Though stocked with beautiful people in flattering lighting, Girlfriends wasn’t about success—if it had been, myself and millions of other Americans wouldn’t have been able to relate. The sitcom showed us that even in our wealthy, sushi-eating daydream, life wouldn’t be perfect. It showed us that we weren’t alone.

Mariah