What I Learned After Watching All 157 Episodes of Gilmore Girls in 118 Days

Towards the end of the Summer, I found myself feeling mildly confused by life. I was bored with my job and fed up of spending hours each day being herded across London clutching lattes I couldn't afford. My boyfriend and I had been fighting about which of us was more sh*t at doing the dishes and I felt homesick for Scotland. So I took the obvious next step: I pressed play on season one, episode one of Gilmore Girls.

What I was looking for was a little light relief, something non-demanding I could have on in the background whilst I chopped stuff for dinner. What I found was something to devour, hour after hour and episode after episode, as though my very life depended on it. I had to take some breaks, annoyingly, for things like turning up to work, going on holiday, and social interactions with real-life people. But in a mere 118 days, I devotedly worked my way through every. Single. Episode.

Inevitably, the end drew ever nearer. I became genuinely a bit nervous for myself. Would I suffer some kind of instant, all-consuming Gilmore withdrawal? Would I be found writhing around on the kitchen floor, clutching my laptop, screeching the theme tune at the top of my lungs?

Turns out I handled it all pretty well. As the credits rolled on "Fall," the fourth part of Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life at the weekend, I actually felt calmer than I have for ages. Despite the whole Last Four Words fiasco, my many questions, and the infuriating bits about Rory being the worst journalist in the entire world, watching the show has felt like wrapping a giant blanket around myself. Coming to the end felt much like coming out of a long Sunday evening bath to a dressing gown waiting on the radiator. And in the immediate post-Gilmore hours . . .

Because I absolutely bawled when Rory, at the end of season seven, says: "To my mom, who is just everything to me and everything I am".

Sure, I sometimes found their best-friend-mother-daughter thing unrealistic during Rory's teenage years (it's not feasible to worry about every single unrealistic bit though so don't try — if nothing else, that level of caffeine consumption would have left them both with some sort of chronic stomach condition). The relationship they share through Rory's 20s, and then in her 30s in the revival, remains genuinely wonderful to watch. Research exists to suggest that a mother-daughter bond is the strongest of all relationships, and when I told my own mum this on the phone she said, "I absolutely believe that to be true, from my experiences both as a daughter and as a mother." Cue more bawling.

Because everyone needs to be brought back to themselves every so often.

Part three of A Year in the Life sees Jess tells Rory, "You should write about you and your mom . . . It's a cool story, it's got a point of view, and it's something only you can write." Almost instantaneously she regains her self-belief, her confidence, and her drive. Jess tells Rory nothing new and nothing surprising, but he reminds her of things she's temporarily forgotten. Having people around you who can do that, who can gently guide you back when you've veered off-course, is a horribly easy thing to take for granted. I thought of the all the people I have in my life who are ready — quietly and reliably — to steady me when I wobble and to make it impossible for me to fall very far apart.

Because I totally disagree with what Amy Sherman-Palladino, the show's writer, said about Rory's love life in an interview: "In the grand scheme of Rory's life, who her boyfriend was when she was 16 years old is such a small event."

If a negative early relationship can affect the way you look at the world long after it ends, then a positive one can do the same. When Rory bumps into Dean in the final revival episode, she tells him about her book and he asks her what she'd write about him. Her answer made me tear up (for the millionth time that hour): "That I know that if I hadn't had you with me when I did, I wouldn't be the person I am today. That you taught me what safe feels like." It's highly unlikely I'll ever bump into my teenage ex in the village corner shop, mainly because I've never lived in a village, and if I did I am pretty sure it would be a mega-awkward. I am just as sure, though, that my understanding of love was shaped in part by who my boyfriend was when I was 16, and it was lovely to be reminded for a moment of how lucky that makes me.

So I guess that will fill the void. For a day or two at least . . .

I started watching Gilmore Girls because I was looking for something to cheer me up a bit. What I found was a happy, funny, comforting lifeboat that kept me afloat until I felt more able to swim.