The Ultimatum: Season 3 Is a Masterclass in Fragile Masculinity

Let’s talk about Netflix’s The Ultimatum: Marry or Move On—or, as Season 3 could more accurately be titled, Red Flags on Parade. If you’ve ever wanted to see what happens when emotionally immature men are forced to relinquish control for three weeks, welcome. This season had everything: possessiveness, projection, passive-aggression, and the kind of fragile masculinity that makes your skin crawl.

The premise is already unhinged—couples issue ultimatums to get married or break up, then “test” their compatibility with other people in temporary trial marriages. It’s chaos by design. But in Season 3, the drama wasn’t just spicy—it was unsettling. Because what we saw wasn’t just reality TV antics. We saw men flailing under the weight of their own insecurity, trying to frame it as love.

Let’s start with Scotty, who was paired with Zaina as his trial wife. He immediately started spiraling. Rather than engage with Zaina as a partner, he monitored her phone use, interrogated her emotional state, and accused her of being manipulative. The second J.R. threatened his ego, Scotty snapped. He accused her of “gaslighting” him—while he himself twisted the narrative, denied his own passive-aggressive behavior, and made Zaina feel like she had to tiptoe around his ego. It wasn’t emotional honesty. It was control dressed up as vulnerability.

And then there was Nick, who simply could not cope when Sandy chose J.R. as her trial husband. What followed wasn’t a man dealing with heartbreak—it was a man throwing a tantrum. Nick sent constant texts. He showed up at the door of Sandy and J.R.’s trial apartment, uninvited, to demand her attention. It was uncomfortable to watch, not because of drama but because it teetered into harassment. He framed it as “fighting for love,” but it looked a lot more like entitlement and temper tantrums.

The core issue here isn’t romantic jealousy—it’s the belief that these men are owed something: time, attention, compliance. When they don’t get it, they don’t retreat. They escalate.

And the women? They handled it with patience they shouldn't have had to summon. Zaina remained calm and firm under Scotty’s emotional pressure. Sandy tried to set boundaries with Nick, only to have him push and push until it bordered on emotional exhaustion. The Ultimatum unintentionally becomes a case study in emotional labor—watching women carry not only the weight of their own choices, but also the crumbling egos of the men around them.

So what’s really going on here?

Why do so many men come on this show only to collapse when their partner exercises independence?

It’s not love—it’s control. And when that control slips, so does the mask. What’s underneath is often resentment, panic, and emotional immaturity. It’s the illusion of confidence until someone emotionally secure (again, looking at you J.R.) enters the room—and suddenly, the “nice guys” can’t handle it.

This leads to the bigger, messier question:

Is marriage even the goal anymore? And should it be?

We’ve built marriage up to be the ultimate endgame—but The Ultimatum keeps proving that half these people don’t actually want to be married. They want to win. They want proof that their partner chooses them, even if the relationship is already broken. For some, the ring is less about connection and more about closure, control, or clout.

It’s worth asking: What do we really want from love in 2025? Commitment? Growth? Safety? Or just the illusion of permanence?

Because here’s the hard truth: a ring won’t fix broken communication. A marriage certificate won’t turn emotional manipulation into mutual respect. And an ultimatum doesn’t magically transform a situationship into a safe partnership.

So here’s my final take:

We don’t need more ultimatums. We need more accountability. We need fewer men who equate “being chosen” with “being entitled.” And we need to start asking whether marriage is really the milestone—or just one more performance in a culture obsessed with validation.