The uncomfortable truths of Wild Cherry: What Christian parents need to know

Wild Cherry is the sort of series that lures you in with expensive knitwear, immaculate kitchens and teenagers with unlimited data plans, then drops you into a spiral of secrecy, power and exploitation. On the surface, it passes itself off as glossy entertainment. Yet underneath, it is a display of how race, class and coercion intersect in modern adolescence. I watched it so you don’t have to. You’re welcome.

many girls already feel they are constantly being watched, judged and assessed

Set in the meticulously curated world of Richford Lake, the show follows two teenage girls who secretly build a private photo-rating app. Their mothers, desperate to protect their reputation, become entangled in the very harm they were trying to avoid. As things unravel, Wild Cherry becomes less about the girls’ app and more about the quiet, corrosive forces that shape young people: power, pressure, class, race and the relentless need to perform.

For parents of teenage girls, this BBC show may feel uncomfortably close to home. You don’t need a gated community or a designer wardrobe to recognise the dynamics at play.

The ugliness behind the gloss

Wild Cherry is deliberately beautiful. Wealthy homes. Outdoor kitchens. Unattainably perfect school uniforms. It creates a world where success is measured by how well everything appears on the surface. Critics have compared the series to a British Desperate Housewives, though that feels generous. The satire in Wild Cherry has teeth. It exposes the social ecosystem of wealth: the parent who can buy their child out of consequences, the school that protects its brand before its students, and the unspoken rules that determine who belongs and who is merely tolerated.

Many teenage girls are already living with a diluted version of this pressure. They may not have Lake District mansions, but they are being shaped by a digital environment built on comparison, rating and visibility. Even without an app, many girls already feel they are constantly being watched, judged and assessed.

Scripture insists that worth is received, not earned through performance or popularity. Our girls need that truth more than ever

As parents, we sometimes underestimate how exhausting this can be. Wild Cherry forces you to sit with that exhaustion. It shows what happens when children grow up believing their value is something other people get to decide.

From a Christian perspective, this strikes at the heart of identity. Scripture insists that worth is received, not earned through performance or popularity. Our girls need that truth more than ever.

The hidden rules of belonging

One of the strongest themes is how belonging is controlled by those with the most privilege. The series introduces newcomers who don’t quite fit the mould. A self-made mother trying to edge her way into the elite circle. A teenage girl reinventing herself with a new accent and backstory to pass as affluent. And for viewers of colour, the dynamic is painfully familiar. The quiet expectation to assimilate. The coded comments. The assumption that success requires performing a version of yourself that is palatable to those who have never had to think twice about their own identity. Christian belonging is meant to remove these barriers, not reinforce them.

What was sold as empowerment is simply shown to be another form of exploitation, wrapped in feminist language to make it palatable

Wild Cherry doesn’t sermonise this; it simply shows the cost. Girls reinvent themselves. They mask. They perform. They hide their vulnerabilities because they fear losing their place. Passing is not just a storyline. It is a survival strategy many young people recognise all too well.

When feminism is repackaged for profit

At the centre of the narrative is the girls’ “catalogue” app - a digital marketplace where subscribers can pay to access and rate intimate photos. The girls frame it as empowerment. They’re in control. They’re making decisions. They’re using their image on their own terms.

If you have a teenage daughter, this rhetoric may sound familiar. Much of the messaging directed at girls today encourages a kind of “choose your own empowerment” mindset. But Wild Cherry refuses to let the girls’ narrative stand. What was sold as empowerment is simply shown to be another form of exploitation, wrapped in feminist language to make it palatable.

the core message still lands, young people notice when adults prioritise reputation over honesty

The uncomfortable reality is that when society encourages young people to trade their bodies or identities for approval, profit, or belonging. We aren’t teaching them empowerment. We are teaching them to perform. And performances always have an audience. In Wild Cherry, that audience is older, wealthier and far more powerful.

For parents, this isn’t a call to panic about secret apps. It is about guiding your daughters to see that the Christian faith offers a different path. One that insists bodies are gifts, not products. That identity is given, not constructed for likes. That freedom is not about visibility but about dignity. These are conversations worth having long before your daughter encounters pressure to share or curate her image.

The failure of adult responsibility

One of the bleakest truths in Wild Cherry is this: the adults fail. Not because they’re evil, but because they are scared. Scared of consequences, scared of scandal, scared of what the truth will expose about them.

This is a dynamic many teenage girls recognise. When they speak up about harm, there is often a fear that adults will minimise or redirect the issue. Wild Cherry exaggerates for drama, but the core message still lands, young people notice when adults prioritise reputation over honesty.

Our children need us to be safe confessors. They need to know that their mistakes won’t shock us into silence or panic

As Christian parents, this should push us towards a posture of humility. Our children need us to be safe confessors. They need to know that their mistakes won’t shock us into silence or panic.

They need spaces where truth is met with grace, not shame. A home shaped by honesty, accountability and forgiveness is far more protective than any monitoring app.

A better story for our daughters

It would be easy to chalk Wild Cherry up as another warning about phones and online safety. But in truth, the show offers an unfiltered look at the lengths young people will go to in order to belong. Reinvention. Silence. Performance. Compromise. Too often, this is dismissed as trivial teenage angst, yet beneath it lies a serious pastoral challenge, when belonging is conditional, young people learn very quickly that their full selves are not welcome.

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Here is what teenage girls need from the adults around them:

• Grounding - A sense of worth that isn’t up for public rating. Faith gives language for this, offering an identity rooted in being loved by God, not measured by others.
• Protection that listens before it reacts - Not surveillance, but trust. Not lectures, but conversations. Not panic, but presence.
• Communities where difference is welcomed - Places where race, class and personality aren’t barriers to belonging. Where they don’t have to reinvent themselves to be accepted.
• To see adults model accountability - Admitting when we get things wrong. Saying sorry. Telling the truth. Showing them that responsibility isn’t something to fear.
• Hope - Not vague optimism, but a clear sense that their lives are not defined by mistakes, pressure or the judgement of others.

Wild Cherry shows a world where image is everything and honesty costs too much. Our calling, as parents and faith communities, is to offer young people the opposite. A world where truth is safe, where belonging is deep, and where their worth is never up for auction.