The Hidden Psychology Behind Team Conrad vs. Team Jeremiah
On the surface, The Summer I Turned Pretty represents a familiar trope we have all come to know and value — the brooding, complicated first love and the golden-hearted boy who has always been there.
Yet, the intensity of the Team Conrad versus Team Jeremiah divide speaks to something far deeper than generic or palatable teenage romance. It reflects the way we all approach intimacy: the pull between love that consumes us and love that steadies us.
Conrad represents the psychology of yearning.
Conrad is the archetype of love that shapes us through absence as much as it does through presence. He embodies desire that is not easily attained, the kind that requires patience, that requires risk, that requires vulnerability. To be drawn to him is to be drawn to intensity — to the idea that love is meant to be transformative, even if it is also painful. Conrad symbolizes the part of us that craves passion strong enough to feel like destiny, the kind of love that rewrites who we are, the kind of love that leaves a fated mark.
Jeremiah represents the psychology of safety.
Where Conrad represents distance and restraint, Jeremiah represents warmth and familiarity. He offers the promise of acceptance without condition, the steadiness of affection that doesn’t have to be earned. To choose Jeremiah is to prioritize emotional security, to align with attachment that feels reliable, that feels nurturing, that feels whole. He symbolizes the longing for a love that is not a storm to weather, but a home to rest in, the kind of love you would feel with a best friend.
The polarization between Team Conrad and Team Jeremiah is less about Belly’s decision and more about our own internal conflicts.
It reveals the tension that exists within many of us, the desire for love that ignites and unsettles us versus the desire for love that soothes and stabilizes our hearts. To align with one “team” is to unconsciously reveal the way we define fulfillment in intimacy in our own lives.
And perhaps that is the brilliance of The Summer I Turned Pretty. It does not reduce love to a binary answer. It acknowledges that human connection is rarely a neatly organized thing, that most of us carry within us the paradox of wanting both a love that excites us and a love that steadies us. The Conrad versus Jeremiah debate, then, isn’t just a fandom conversation. It is a mirror. It reminds us that the psychology of love is not just about who we choose, but rather, what kind of love we believe we are worthy of.
