Stranger Things didn’t mishandle Will Byers’ coming out scene because they don’t know how to write queer stories. They mishandled it because they chose spectacle over intimacy, despite already proving with Robin Buckley that they know better. When you put the two scenes side by side, the difference in tone, intention, and care is glaring. And it really highlights how much the writing has downgraded over the seasons.
Robin’s coming out feels natural and character driven. Yeah, she’s under the influence of Russian truth serum, but that arguably makes the moment even more believable because it gives her a reason to say something she might not otherwise feel ready to voice. But beyond that, the conversation itself is grounded and human. There’s no speech about her needing to prove she’s “just like everyone else.” There’s no audience, or grand declarations, or manufactured drama.
Even though she doesn’t explicitly say the word “lesbian,” it works for her because it’s in character. Robin gets frustrated with Steve’s obliviousness, and when he finally understands, his reaction is a simple, immediate, “oh.” And then he accepts her. Instantly. No performative reassurance, no checklist of ally statements, no emotional spectacle. Just quiet, genuine understanding. It’s intimate, restrained, and incredibly comforting because it reflects a reality a lot of queer people recognize → you don’t need to convince the people who love you to stay. The right ones just do.
That intimacy is exactly what Will’s scene lacks.
Will doesn’t get a moment of safety. He doesn’t get to choose when or how he comes out. He’s coerced by Vecna, pushed into vulnerability through fear and trauma, and we don’t even get to see it happen. Instead of a moment rooted in trust and connection, his coming out becomes a stage. A spectacle. Something done to him, not with him.
Compare that to Robin, who comes out to one person, Steve, during a moment where they both are already sharing fear and vulnerability together. That scene deepens their bond and strengthens their relationship. Will, meanwhile, is isolated. He’s scared, alone, and unprepared, forced into a public revelation in front of people he doesn’t even know well. There’s no grounding presence, no hand to hold, no reassurance.
And that’s what makes it feel so wrong.
A far more resonant choice would have been letting Will come out privately to Joyce and Mike first. Those are the people he loves most, the people whose acceptance genuinely matters to him (Jonathan, too, though season 4 already made it clear he would always be there for Will). That alone could have been enough. Being loved and accepted by them could have given Will the confidence and safety he’s been searching for since season 1. And wouldn't have let Vecna have complete control over him and his coming out.
And if the show really needed him to come out publicly, then at least let him do it with support. Let him do it standing beside people who already had his back, instead of panicking alone in front of a crowd. As it is, the scene feels unrealistic, especially considering the time period, even with Vecna’s influence. It doesn’t feel like growth, it feels like obligation.
And it reads as another instance of the story inflicting pain on a character who's already been defined by loss, fear, isolation, and endless suffering.
That’s why it comes off as performative, rather than empowering or sincere. Like the show needed to “check the box” rather than tell a story about Will learning to trust that he's lovable exactly as he is.
And that’s what makes it so frustrating. Because Robin’s coming out had a place in the story. It was sensitive, character driven, and emotionally honest. Knowing the writers were capable of that, and then watching Will be denied the same care, makes the difference impossible to ignore.
They didn’t fail because they don’t know how to write a sincere and compelling coming out scene.
They failed because they chose not to give Will one.
titsay
kianamaiart
baratheonpilled
pixelskylines
izzy806
origamiaround
