Netflix’s Forever: A Heartfelt, Beautifully Black Ode to First Love

Created by Mara Brock Akil | Based on the novel by Judy Blume

When a show is so good it makes you feel 17 again, awkward and wide-eyed with your whole life ahead of you—that’s when you know it’s something special. Netflix's Forever, the latest series from Mara Brock Akil, isn’t just a retelling of Judy Blume’s iconic novel; it’s a reimagining rooted deeply in Black identity, culture, and emotional truth. Set in 2018 Los Angeles, it follows high school seniors Keisha Clark and Justin Edwards as they navigate the turbulent, tender terrain of first love—set against the backdrop of family, pressure, and Black coming-of-age realities.

Let’s be clear: this series is art. It’s not just a coming-of-age story—it’s a becoming story. Watching Keisha and Justin fall for each other, fumble through expectations, and find themselves along the way feels raw, real, and deeply familiar. Especially for viewers who rarely see young Black love explored with this kind of nuance and care.

Keisha (Lovie Simone), the laser-focused track star with the weight of her family's hopes on her back, is a stunning portrayal of what it means to be “the one” who’s expected to break cycles. Her vulnerability is powerful. That moment—when she tells Justin she just wanted to “show” him how much she liked him—hit like a gut punch. So many Black girls and women have been there: taught to perform affection rather than simply express it, often in the absence of emotionally available fathers. That truth lingers long after the episode ends.

Justin (Michael Cooper Jr.), meanwhile, is one of the most emotionally intelligent portrayals of a young Black male we’ve seen in a while. Raised in a household with both love and structure, he’s still figuring out who he is—not just who his parents want him to be. And yet, the way he sees Keisha? With kindness, intentionality, and clarity? That’s the kind of softness and security Black boys are so rarely allowed to embody on screen. His journey is subtle but powerful.

Speaking of parents, Netflix's Forever doesn’t just stop at teen drama—it shows us where these kids come from, and how that shapes who they are.

Dawn (Karen Pittman), Justin’s mom, is a character that will stay with any Black mother watching. As a boy mom, her instincts, fears, and protectiveness are palpable. She walks that tightrope all too familiar to Black parents: preparing your child for a world that sees their skin as a threat, while still trying to give them room to be. Her fierce love is a protective armor.

Eric, portrayed with such grace by Wood Harris, is the quiet strength in the room. The bridge between worlds. A father who sees everyone, who listens, who balances. His presence is both grounding and deeply moving. Watching Harris in this kind of role is a gift—one we need more of.

And the chemistry? Keisha and Justin burn with the kind of fire that defines first love: messy, confusing, intoxicating. Their relationship swings between heart-melting tenderness and teenage melodrama in the most honest, believable way. The ups and downs aren’t played for soap opera—this is the stuff of real adolescence, made all the more poignant because it’s ours.

This show does what too few teen dramas do: it centers Black kids without trauma being the whole story. Yes, there are pressures, there is pain. But there is also joy. Love. Community. Care. And that matters.

The ending leaves you aching for more—because Forever doesn’t just tell a story. It feels like one you’ve lived.

If season one is any indication, we’re not just watching a great show—we’re witnessing the rebirth of the Black teen love story on screen. And frankly, it’s about time.

Bring on season 2. We need it. We deserve it. Forever.