The Familiar Yet Revelatory Charm of ‘Girls Like Girls’: A Love Story That Feels Both New and Timeless
There’s something almost paradoxical about Girls Like Girls, Hayley Kiyoko’s feature directorial debut. On the surface, it’s a story we’ve seen before: two teenage girls, an instant connection, the giddy highs and crushing lows of first love. Nothing groundbreaking, right? But here’s the thing—what makes this film so captivating is precisely its ability to make the familiar feel fresh. Personally, I think that’s where its magic lies. It’s like rediscovering a favorite song you haven’t heard in years; the notes are the same, but the emotion hits differently.
The Power of Simplicity in Storytelling
One thing that immediately stands out is how Kiyoko resists the urge to overcomplicate. The plot is straightforward: Coley (Maya da Costa), a shy newcomer, meets Sonya (Myra Molloy), a bubbly popular girl, and their friendship blossoms into something more. There’s no grand tragedy, no external drama to drive the narrative. Instead, the tension comes from within—from the girls’ own hesitations, fears, and desires. What many people don’t realize is how rare this is in modern cinema. We’re so conditioned to expect twists and turns that a story relying solely on emotion feels almost revolutionary.
From my perspective, this simplicity is a bold choice. It forces the audience to lean into the characters’ experiences, to feel every flutter of their hearts and every sting of their doubts. And it works. The chemistry between da Costa and Molloy is electric, natural, and utterly convincing. When they’re on screen together, nothing else matters—and that’s exactly the point.
Capturing the Essence of First Love
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Kiyoko, who also wrote the screenplay, taps into the universal yet deeply personal nature of first love. We’ve all been there, whether we’re straight, gay, or somewhere in between. That feeling of discovering someone who makes the world feel new—it’s timeless. But Kiyoko adds a layer of specificity by centering a queer narrative without making it the focal point. This isn’t a story about coming out or fighting homophobia; it’s a story about two girls falling in love, period.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the way the film handles Sonya’s internal conflict. She’s not a villain; she’s just unprepared. Her hesitancy isn’t about rejecting Coley but about grappling with her own identity. This raises a deeper question: How often do we, as individuals or as a society, shy away from love because it challenges our sense of self? If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just a teen romance—it’s a meditation on vulnerability and growth.
The Visual and Emotional Landscape
Visually, Girls Like Girls is a love letter to the mid-2000s. The production design, the wardrobe, the soundtrack—it’s all meticulously crafted to evoke a sense of nostalgia. As a geriatric millennial myself, I felt a pang of recognition every time Coley’s computer chimed with the familiar bloop of AOL Instant Messenger. What this really suggests is that the film isn’t just about the characters’ journey; it’s about ours, too. It’s a reminder of how far we’ve come, both culturally and personally.
But what truly elevates the film is its emotional honesty. Kiyoko doesn’t shy away from the messiness of love. Coley’s heartbreak is raw, palpable, and deeply relatable. Sonya’s struggle to reconcile her feelings with her identity is handled with nuance and care. In my opinion, this is where the film transcends its genre. It’s not just a love story; it’s a human story.
The Broader Implications: Why This Film Matters
Here’s where I’ll get a bit speculative. Girls Like Girls arrives at a time when queer narratives are more visible than ever, yet still often reduced to trauma or triumph. This film dares to be ordinary, and in doing so, it normalizes queer love in a way that feels groundbreaking. What many people don’t realize is that representation doesn’t always have to be loud to be powerful. Sometimes, it’s the quiet, everyday stories that resonate the deepest.
If you take a step back and think about it, this film is a testament to the idea that love—in all its forms—is worth celebrating, even when it’s messy, even when it hurts. It’s a reminder that first love, no matter how fleeting, shapes us in ways we may not fully understand until years later.
Final Thoughts: A Gem in Disguise
Girls Like Girls is the kind of film that sneaks up on you. It doesn’t demand your attention; it earns it. Beautifully shot, tenderly acted, and emotionally resonant, it’s a reminder that sometimes the most extraordinary stories are the ones that feel the most ordinary. Personally, I think that’s what makes it so special. It’s not trying to be anything more than what it is—and in that, it becomes something truly remarkable.
So, here’s my takeaway: Next time you watch a love story, ask yourself—does it feel real? Does it make you remember? If the answer is yes, then it’s done its job. And Girls Like Girls? It does both, effortlessly.
