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Young Black Women Are Finally Leading UK Coming-Of-Age TV — But Will It Last?

As a long-time fan of coming-of-age stories, the buzz around shows like Queenie and Boarders marks to me what feels like a turning point in UK television. Over the past few years, we’ve seen a wave of series centring nuanced, well-written, emotionally complex portrayals of Black British girlhood and young womanhood. These shows don’t just give us polished role models — they offer characters who are messy, flawed, relatable, and deeply human.
Take Queenie, for example, a millennial dramedy, which was adapted from Candice Carty-Williams' bestselling novel. Before the show was released, I was longing for more shows with emotionally messy Black women as protagonists, and the show did not disappoint. Played by Dionne Brown, Queenie is not a perfectly polished version of young Black womanhood. She’s reeling from a breakup with her boyfriend, Tom, and as a result, seeks comfort in one-night stands. She also suffers a miscarriage, all while navigating the frustrations that can come with working in predominantly white space. I watched it at a time when, like Queenie, I was going through a quarter-life crisis and questioning whether I was healing fast enough from relationships, and she definitely felt like my spirit animal.
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Similarly, Everything Now gave us a refreshingly honest portrayal of a flawed teen character through the eyes of Mia (Sophie Wilde), who’s returning to school after treatment for an eating disorder. I liked how the show didn’t sugarcoat her recovery or wrap her anxiety and depression in a neat arc. It allowed her to be messy, scared, and sometimes selfish, which is exactly what made her feel real. What really stuck with me, though, was the sisterly dynamic between Mia and her best friend Becca, played brilliantly by Lauryn Ajufo. Becca isn’t just portrayed as Mia’s sidekick; she’s navigating her own stuff, from relationship drama to an abortion, but still shows up for Mia every single time. Whether she’s helping her through a panic attack or giving her a crash course on how to kiss, Becca feels like the best friend every Black girl deserves. 

“Maybe she’s messy, maybe she’s not likeable. But not all the women I know are likeable. I just wanted to make sure that they were allowed to be who they are."

Joelle Mae David, Director, 'Boarders' & 'Queenie'
Photo: Courtesy of Netflix.
We also had Boarders, the witty BBC Three comedy-drama about five Black teens from South London who are plucked from their state schools and awarded scholarships to St. Gilbert’s, a posh private institution desperate to fix its public image after a diversity scandal. While all the cast shine in their respective roles, Leah, who’s played by Jodie Campbell, stands out. She’s politically engaged and isn’t hesitant to critique the school system, from the school’s colonial portraits that line St. Gilbert’s hall, to refusing to bend to respectability politics when they are told to address the head teacher as “Master.”
Joelle Mae David, who directed Boarders and Queenie, tells Unbothered that she was keen on portraying the diversity of young, Black women in both shows and crafting characters who are a version of Black girlhood, not the epitome of Black girlhood. “Maybe she’s messy, maybe she’s not likeable. But not all the women I know are likeable. I just wanted to make sure that they were allowed to be who they are,” she says. 
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We’re also finally seeing Black women lead shows in genres where we’ve long been underrepresented in the UK, like fantasy and superhero. Earlier last year, BBC Three introduced us to Domino Day, a witch-drama about a Black witch who must feed off other people’s energy to stay alive. Created by Lauren Sequeira and starring Siena Kelly, I loved how the show kept the authenticity of Britishness, brought the fun elements of American teen supernatural shows such as Vampire Diaries and Witches of East End, while still managing to be inherently Black (a Black witch, a Black coven of witches whose sisterhood I really admired, and a Black writer). Then came Netflix's Supacell, a show that I had long been waiting for as someone who loves the superhero genre.

"Many Black women are forced to navigate this balancing act across industries: to be excellent, to go above and beyond, whilst also knowing that if you are too much, that's also unacceptable. It was subtle, but we wanted to portray something that felt authentic.”

Sheila Nortley, a producer of Supacell
The sci-fi drama follows five ordinary Black people in South London who unexpectedly develop superpowers. Among the protagonists is Sabrina (Nadine Mills), a nurse, who develops the power of telekinesis. Putting her superpowers aside, the show did a great job portraying her human side as well. Sabrina is trying to navigate a demanding hospital promotion while grappling with unexpected powers and protecting her sister, Sharleen, from an abusive ex and a shadowy organisation that mistakenly targets her. “What drew me to her was because I saw some similarities of myself in her,” Mills tells Unbothered. “I was excited because I’m going to be that representation and inspiration for others that are yet to come in the genre.”
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Sheila Nortley, a producer of Supacell, was keen on portraying a story that reflected the lived truth of Black women. “Sabrina is a second-generation Jamaican woman building a career in what is essentially a racist system, not overtly, but in ways that are deeply insidious,” she says. “Like Sabrina, many Black women are forced to navigate this balancing act across industries: to be excellent, to go above and beyond, whilst also knowing that if you are too much, that's also unacceptable. It was subtle, but we wanted to portray something that felt authentic.”
This wave of well-written Black women leads in UK TV shows feels like a long-overdue progress, but the reality is that some of these shows haven’t had the staying power they deserve. Whether due to limited promotion, algorithm bias, or simply not being given the same leeway to grow as their white-led counterparts, many still struggle to sustain mainstream visibility or secure second seasons. 
Bolu Babalola’s Big Age had a promising storyline about aspiring writer Ṣadé (Ronkẹ Adékoluẹjo) and her three friends navigating life and love after reaching the pivotal age of 25, but it only got a pilot episode. Similarly, Everything Now had the makings of a long-running hit. In its final episode, we see Mia ticking more items off her f**k-it list, gradually recovering from her eating disorder, and she even has a new f**k-it list, which hints at what the gang could get up to in season two. But despite having a writer's room ready for a second season, the show was cancelled. One of its stars, Dylan Brady, cited poor performance as the reason behind the cancellation. The show only featured in the UK Netflix Top 10 for eight days, far below the 30-day benchmark that typically boosts a show’s chances of being greenlit for another season. In contrast, a similar series like Sex Education ran for four seasons and was Netflix UK’s most-watched series launch of 2023.
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This raises the question: are enough people watching these shows? Do they need to be seismic hits to justify a second season? And what would it take for these shows to have long-term sustainability?

“There’s this expectation that a Black-led show has to also come with a big cultural reckoning or social message. But sometimes we just want to tell soft, romantic, funny, messy stories. And that should be enough.”

Joelle MAE DAVID
On one hand, not every YA show builds the audience it deserves (more on that later). But even when they do, Black-led YA series, particularly those fronted by Black women, are often held to impossible standards. Nortley and David note these shows are expected to prove themselves much faster than their counterparts, often with little time or support to build an audience.
“There’s this expectation that a Black-led show has to also come with a big cultural reckoning or social message,” David says. “But sometimes we just want to tell soft, romantic, funny, messy stories. And that should be enough.”
As Nortley puts it: “If it’s not groundbreaking, then is it really a success?”
This pressure is sometimes amplified by comparisons to shows which made international waves like I May Destroy You or Chewing Gum, both created by Michaela Coel. Those were undeniably culture-shifting. I May Destroy You was referred to as the most wildly genius show of 2020. But not every story is trying to be a juggernaut. Some simply want to reflect the lives of their characters authentically. Due to the pressure to deliver instant international critical acclaim, writers and showrunners end up trying to recreate the next viral buzz. 
Sarah Asante, a former scripted and digital commissioner of mainly Black and working-class stories, says this pressure can be particularly stifling for newer and Black-led production companies. For starters, most Black-led shows tend to be new and rarely have the backing of an experienced production company. David gives herself as an example. Many Black writers and showrunners, she says, may be transitioning from theatre or fiction writing and running their first show. They aren’t just doing the job; they are also learning how to do the job, which is tedious.
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“Newer and Black companies are just grateful for the chance,” Asante explains. “So it’s like, ‘Oh my God, you want us to do a pilot? Thank you so much.’ Then the response is: ‘Oh, it didn’t perform how we thought. We’re not sure.’ And you’re like: ‘As much as we did all of that work to get season one off the ground. I just don't feel like we can replicate it.’ And suddenly, you’re fighting for the series to even stay alive.”
The structure of British TV doesn’t help. UK shows are typically limited to six episodes, far fewer than the 10, 12, or even 22-episode runs common in the US. This lack of time to build word of mouth makes it difficult for emerging shows to gain traction. “You can do a lot in 12 or 13 episodes, you’ve got space to gather people along the way,” Asante says. “Here in the UK? You don’t.”
This contingency on the performance of the show has also led to a shift in commissioning trends. Previously, multi-season orders used to be standard, but now most UK shows are only greenlit for one season. Writers are left developing scripts for season two without any guarantee that the show will continue. David says that channels would be less swayed by viewing figures if writers, production companies, and showrunners had a multi-season mindset from the get-go. “We’re not necessarily saying all channels need to commit to multiple seasons, but if we had a bit more of a game plan and knew where we’re going after season one, maybe the channels would see that this has longevity.”
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It's not just enough to hire Black actors, writers or directors; it’s also about putting Black commissioners, executives, and marketers in the room. That is, people who know how to speak to the audience they're targeting. 

How authentic a story is can also ensure that the show has long-term longevity. David stresses that it’s not just about casting the right actor, but about writing from a place of emotional specificity. A good character has to feel lived in. “If the character doesn’t feel like someone you could know, or be, then what’s the point?” she says. “There’s a responsibility there, to reflect that internal landscape honestly.”
Nortley adds that Black British girls cannot be reduced to a single group because there is so much nuance and diversity. According to her, to create an authentic story, it doesn't have to represent all of us, because let’s be frank, not all of us can relate to one story. It just has to represent real human beings. “It’s that very small subtlety of Sabrina's work experience that a lot of Black women will be able to relate to. How do you make it authentic? Just by using lived experience.”
Sustaining a YA show is also dependent on the marketing teams behind the show, and unfortunately, some don’t fully understand the audiences they’re trying to reach, Nortley explains. It's not just enough to hire Black actors, writers or directors; it’s also about putting Black commissioners, executives, and marketers in the room. That is, people who know how to speak to the audience they're targeting. 
But even the best shows can struggle if they’re placed on platforms that don’t align with young people’s viewing habits. BBC Three — the home of Boarders and Domino Day — has seen a dramatic drop in viewership among 16-24-year-olds. According to Ofcom, weekly reach among this age group fell from 82% in 2017 to just 54% in 2022. Even great shows risk fading into obscurity because of poor visibility.
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Right now, there's still a noticeable imbalance between the kind of promotion done by channels and streaming platforms in the U.S. compared to the U.K. David tells us that Queenie received significant visibility in both markets, with Hulu rolling out billboards across the U.S, and Channel 4 beginning its U.K. campaign months ahead of release. Similarly, Boarders got a decent push on Tubi in the U.S. But that kind of investment isn't always consistent in the U.K. Probably the common theme here is that American platforms tend to go quite big with their shows. “We need to make sure UK audiences are seeing these shows, too, by having similar promotions,” David says. 
A show like Forever, the American rom-com featuring the love story of Justin and Keisha, which jolted many of us back to our first love by simply allowing Black teens to be free and in love, was such a success it even nabbed a perfect 100% critic score. In contrast, we had an almost similar rom-com, Rye Lane, a British romantic comedy film about two strangers, Dom and Yas, who have a chance encounter. After having both been through recent breakups, they spend the day getting to know each other and end up falling in love. But while Rye Lane was critically acclaimed, it didn’t ignite the same long-lasting cultural wave Forever did.
When asked if we have our own version of Forever, both David and Nortley agreed: not yet. 
Still, they’re hopeful. David sees rom-coms and sitcoms as a great space for creating more stories about young, Black British women, not just because they’re more affordable to produce or they have higher demand with commissioners and audiences who are looking to laugh and fall in love, but because most of them allow Black characters to simply exist without their identity always being central to the plot. Shows like Smothered (featuring the hilarious Danielle Vitalis) offer characters who are funny, romantic, messy, and not defined solely by their Blackness. That kind of casual, character-led storytelling is something the U.S. has embraced more consistently, but it’s starting to take root in the UK too.
“We see and have love stories around us every day,” Nortley says. “We just need to extract these from our imagination and put them on the screen.” The stories are there, the talent is already here: the writers, the directors, the actors, and the audiences who are hungry for more; they just need backing. David is optimistic, she tells Unbothered that she has seen recent scripts in development that carry that same energy of Forever, shows about Black people just living. That future, they believe, is already on its way, if only we stop seeing Black-led stories as risks and start seeing them as investments.
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