Never Have I Ever As Related to by a 25-Year-Old Indian “Teenage Girl” In Advertising
Written by: Daynah Singh
These last few weeks have felt like a season of endings. I lost my job, changed my glasses, walked away from my alumni group, and parted ways with my therapist. It’s been a time of discomfort and progression. So it’s no surprise that finishing the final season of Never Have I Ever has hit me right in the feels. Though Devi and I might not be besties (or have remotely similar interests), high achieving/slightly mentally unstable Indian girls have to stick together. Even though it’s been a hot second since I’ve been in high school, it’s been interesting watching myself grow in my career alongside Devi and her friends over the last three years.
When Never Have I Ever first aired, I was brand new in my career. And, while I didn’t have temporary paralysis of my legs, I found myself resonating with Devi wanting her sophomore year to be different. I was still finding my place at my job. I was young and eager and wanted to reinvent myself from “super serious academic with a good GPA” to “super cool, laid back creative” who didn’t care about what anyone had to say about her. It was the same messy confusion Devi and her friends were facing, but instead of high school on a Netflix show, it was real life. And, like our fiery, misunderstood main character, I probably overcompensated from time to time.
Being volun-told to organize AAPI Heritage Month? Sure thing. Need a panelist to talk to prospective advertising students? On it. Lead a company-wide mentorship program for underrepresented talent? I’m your girl. It’s funny how all those clubs Devi signed up for have corporate counterparts; that might be why I suggested we watch part of the series for our AAPI Lunch & Learn event that year. And it’s also probably why I spent most of that Lunch & Learn having a “coconut” identity crisis to keep the conversation going. Because who doesn't love being brown on the outside, but feeling white on the inside? During season one, Coyote Girl and I were at similar points in our respective healing journeys – we did whatever we could to feel loved and accepted in spaces where we felt out of place.
As the years/seasons went on, it was refreshing to see myself reflected in Devi. Were we both still a little unhinged? Absolutely. But, by season three, we were both ready to put our heads down and go after the things we wanted. Granted, one of us did this more ethically than others (sorry, Devi). For me, that meant pushing myself beyond what people would call reasonable, helping out on projects wherever I could, and chasing that highly coveted promotion. And for a while, things worked out for both of us. I suppose my version of Devi getting into the highly coveted Shrubland school was a feature in Adweek. Both of these instances felt great in the moment, but there was fear on the other side. What did it mean for our futures? Why did everything feel scary all of a sudden?
For Devi, season four starts in the midst of college application season. For Daynah, it takes place during job application season (because, let’s be real, getting laid off is not fun). Watching Devi navigate the highs and lows of her senior year resonated with me more than I expected. Here we are, both in different stages of our lives, staring into the eyes of the unknown. Life is throwing us one curveball after another, and nothing is working out the way we expect it to, and, wouldn’t you know it, everything is on fire.
I won’t spoil it for you, but season four shows us how much Devi’s grown from sophomore year to now. And seeing this has given me a moment to reflect on how much I’ve grown, too. I’ve watched “Crazy Devi” break down, fall apart, and lose it all. I’ve seen her question her goals and motivations. I’ve seen her battle with herself, her family, and her heritage. But, most importantly, I’ve seen her represent me. So while Devi says farewell to Sherman Oaks and I share my life story with another recruiter, it’s time for both of us to find new beginnings and carve new paths. It’s been a weird three years, but I’m glad I had Devi along for the ride.
