I never meant to watch Love Island, less still write about it. But when my 23-year-old son asked me if I wanted to watch the first episode with him, on Mother’s Day, no less, the matter was settled.

I couldn’t even remember the last time we had sat down and watched TV together, so it made for good bonding time. If you still have adult children living at home, I recommend it. It’s an excellent springboard for many conversations you wouldn’t normally have about subjects that may otherwise be awkward. 

Unsurprisingly, my son lost interest after the first few episodes and stopped watching, whereas I have soldiered on. But we still find ourselves discussing and dissecting the show. We empathise with some of the contestants and are less generous with others.

We’ve discussed everything – from my own instinctive (and, perhaps, superficial) aversion to fake nails, fake eyebrows and tattoos to the dangers of stereotyping and labelling, based largely on these same superficial generalisations and prejudices.

We’ve even discussed my own hypothetical fear of his taking part in Love Island. And we’ve explored the all-important matter of choosing a partner who won’t cramp your style or try to change you.

By and large, it has provided me with some interesting insights into how my son thinks and, of course, I find myself wondering whether he finds my own insights and opinions interesting and useful in return. As always, he manages to surprise me and in the best possible way. He seems to have picked up none of our modern insecurities regarding body size and shape – a lack of concern he certainly didn’t get from me. He is far more comfortable in his skin than I ever was at his age. He is so clearly the better person.

Some people have written off Love Island as the ultimate in trash TV, the epitome of ‘everything that is wrong with our society’. I, on the other hand, think we need more shows like it and I say so because loving relationships more often than not elude even the best of us.

If good marriages are the bedrock of strong societies, bad marriages and failed relationships are at the root of most of society’s problems. You will find that everything – from domestic violence to divorce, drug and alcohol abuse – can usually be traced back to dysfunctional family dynamics, low self-esteem and the all-important mother-father relationship.

So why do we fall in love with the wrong people and spurn (or, at least, take for granted) the people who are in love with us? Why do we sabotage some relationships and over-invest in others? Choosing the right life partner is one of the most important decisions you will ever make and, arguably, the most important ‘career’ decision you will make.

And that’s because the right person can make you and the wrong one, break you. Our happiness largely depends on this one choice and, yet, oddly enough, it is probably the only time in our lives when we are not given any sort of training or instruction.

Think about it. From an early age, we are plunged into a world of learning. We are taught to read, write and count. We learn about history, geography, maths and chemistry – all in the name of economic security and choosing the right career path. And, yet, when it comes to love and conducting relationships (a very different kind of chemistry) these are never on the syllabus. Love is the course they forgot to teach.

Bad marriages and failed relationships are at the root of most of society’s problems- Michela Spiteri

Now some might argue that you can teach love and perhaps you can’t. But you can certainly teach communication and help people build self-confidence, self-esteem and self-love.

Once you have that, emotional security and healthy relationships usually follow.

There’s much that can be said in the show’s favour; although some will still dismiss it as sensational or frivolous, as a chance to cash in on celebrityhood – or cash itself. I could easily split hairs and find similar fault. But the more I watch, the more I feel there is value. The positives far outweigh the negatives. 

It is also an eye-opener of sorts. Certainly, a chance to observe those relationship dynamics that we have all experienced in some shape or form. And, yes, the education we never received at school, or even at home. 

A light is shed on toxic co-dependency, the dangers of jealousy, manipulation and control and how certain people seem to be pathologically attracted to the wrong people.

We are also reminded that we are often, sadly, more interested in people once they’ve moved on or when someone else is interested in them.

All of this takes place in a controlled environment, a sort of love boarding-school or bootcamp, among friends who act as mentors, offering objective and sound advice on how to resolve conflict and deal with emotions. The interactions are often sensitive, and quite profound, and rarely, if ever, rude or obnoxious. But what is so interesting is that the contestants (like the rest of us) all share the same insecurities and issues. 

Participants get a chance to have a shot at love while they are assessed and scrutinised and, yes, coached and warned. While gaining these useful insights, contestants are also having fun while learning how to express themselves and communicate their feelings honestly, without any of the world-without-end consequences.

The show’s very insularity (from ‘reality’) is its great quality. We see, in this ‘try-out’ for life, that some people are luckier in love than others, that some settle into relationships while others never do.

We notice that the search for love doesn’t get any easier with age, although, perhaps, you do become more sure of what you don’t want. Most of all, we see that compromising yourself in pursuit of a supposed ideal is not an option.

Arguably, Love Island is not the island from which we need rescuing. Perhaps it’s the island which rescues you.