When it comes to drama and trauma, season 2 of Euphoria has topped the first. Given the gut-wrenching content, some viewers have been wondering why they keep watching. Some people want to stick it out for redemption, to see the characters come out on the other side, better for their trials — others just can't seem to look away from the mess. The show has been criticized for glamorizing trauma and equating suffering with importance, but still, viewership has increased with each episode.

Euphoria's appeal is complicated. Zendaya has said watching the show can breed empathy by illustrating how people, whatever they might be going through, are more than their worst mistakes. But what makes us really believe in these characters? How does Euphoria convince us of some broader good amid the addictions, affairs, and lies it trades in? What about the show makes watching worth the cortisol spikes?

The show is redeemed by its own depth of character. As we head into this Sunday's season finale, we want to take a moment to appreciate some of the lessons from season 2.

Everyone Has a Story

euphoria cast ashtray
HBO

In both seasons of Euphoria, flashback scenes have been responsible for a lot of the character-building. These flashbacks, narrated by Rue (Zendaya), often open episodes. They show us younger versions of the characters, providing portals into their psyches and helping us understand their perspectives and actions.

In Episode 2 of this season, we learned about Fezco's dysfunctional parents and ruthless grandma, how Ashtray (Javon Walton) came into their lives, and the origins of their drug business. We watched as Fez (Angus Cloud) learned the definition of "family" that motivates him throughout the show.

In Episode 3, we saw Cal (Elias Kacavas) in high school as he navigated his relationship with Marsha (Rebecca Louise) amid his burgeoning feelings for his best friend, Derek (Henry Eikenberry). We began to understand the origins of his conflict, his maniacal rage. But even with this kind of context, the characters' present behaviors — murdering drug lords, having affairs with underage kids — is not by any means excused or explained away. The backstories may provide motives and logic, but they generate more ambiguity than clarity. We're not exactly sure what to believe or whom to root for.

Related: How Euphoria Tackles Tough Content Without Glorifying It

That the information we receive in flashbacks doesn't completely excuse or justify the characters' behaviors is crucial. We can be empathetic while expecting more, wanting them to do better in the present. "Trauma has become synonymous with backstory, but the tyranny of backstory is itself a relatively recent phenomenon," Parul Sehgal wrote in a recent New Yorker article on "trauma plots." She is critical of the convention as a replacement for more thoughtful character-building but notes that "in deft hands, the trauma plot is taken only as a beginning…It becomes a portal into history and into a common language."

Suffering Is Relative

euphoria cast
HBO

If Euphoria offers anything, it's a common language. However different they might look, all the characters oscillate around similar adolescent struggles: their relationships with their parents, each other, themselves, and substances.

But Euphoria is careful not to establish any hierarchies. It never offers a singular definition of "right" and "wrong." In Episode 6, Cassie (Sydney Sweeney) breaks down following the revelation about her relationship with Nate (Jacob Elordi) and gets into repeated fights with her mom, Suze, while Lexi watches. "Rue's a good girl." "And I'm not?" Cassie balks. "I didn't say you're not a good girl. Rue's had a very hard life," Suze replies. "Not harder than my life or Lexi," Cassie yells back. "It's different," Suze sighs. "Right. Her dad died, and ours just stopped calling. I don't know which is worse," Cassie retorts.

This exchange epitomizes Euphoria's ideological stance on traumatic events: it's a fool's errand to compare them. Suffering is relative, and no one is completely absolved by something that happened to them in the past.

Related: Euphoria Gets Renewed for Season 3 at HBOThe effect is equalizing. Euphoria is not a misery competition but an illustration of a greater truth: everyone has something important at stake in their life. Euphoria has a big cast, and a lot is going on, but the show rarely gives any plot lines slack. The result is extremely suspenseful and sometimes painful to watch. But it's always authentic.

Aesthetics Aren't Everything

Sydney Sweeney and Alexa Demie as Cassie and Maddy in Euphoria
HBO

Speaking of authenticity, the show has been criticized for equating suffering with importance by glamorizing the characters' substance abuse and risky behavior. But the show's message isn't in the conflation — it's the distinction between the glitzy makeup and the raw emotions behind the masks that matter.

For example, Nate oozes aloof masculinity, but he spends most of the season troubleshooting his fracturing relationships. Maddy's (Alexa Demie) eyeliner is sharp enough to cut you, and she's loose with her physical threats. Still, after the news about Cassie and Nate surfaces, we see her lying on her girlish bed, expression vacant, lost, and vulnerable. For days, Cassie herself wakes up at 4:00 AM to shower and do her makeup and hair before school and strides down the school hallways dolled up and smiling. But she's desperate for Nate's attention. She's convinced she's worthless without a man's love. She cries in the bathroom.

These dichotomies are powerful; like #nofilter movements on social media, they can even be liberating. Despite how the kids of East Highland High might show up when the bell rings, viewers know that every one of them is dealing with a major problem (or several). Euphoria is an outspoken reminder that appearances — defined muscles, trendy outfits, and elaborate makeup — aren't necessarily synonymous with happiness.

Perhaps that reality is what makes Euphoria so popular, even if it's hard to watch. Viewers aren't looking for a Hercules; Euphoria doesn't have one, anyway. The characters are good and bad. They don't always make sense. That's what makes them human.