Queer Women Reflect on How 'Sugar Rush' Made Them Feel Seen

Before Killing Eve, before Transparent, before Orange Is the New Black – hell, even before Lip Service – there was Sugar Rush, the Channel 4 lesbian TV drama based on the Julie Burchill novel of the same name. It only ran for two seasons – from 2005 to 2006 – but in that time became a staple for young queer girls across the country, many who'd never seen narratives like ours played out on screen (depressing Eastenders subplots don't count).

Sugar Rush is centred on 15-year-old Kim, who has a crush on her best mate Sugar. But the queer storyline wasn't the show's only draw: it was also about drinking, drugs, complicated family dynamics and growing up in a British city like Brighton while sexually confused and bored out of your mind. It arrived a year before Skins, which normalised many of these subjects, so in that way it was a primer for what people wanted – all set to a mid-2000s soundtrack of Goldfrapp, Basement Jaxx and Bloc Party.

That said: mainly, it was about the queer stuff. Kim was every closeted coming-of-age lez, and Sugar was every unrequited best friend crush. With that in mind, I spoke to a bunch of queer girls who grew up watching Sugar Rush about what it meant to them at the time, and how they feel looking back on it as an adult.

I got my mum to buy Sugar Rush on boxset when I was 12 and would watch it on repeat. I don't know how my mum didn't realise I wasn't straight. I don't think I fully realised myself either; I was just like 'Why am I obsessed with this programme?’' I liked how Kim had a crush on her friend, but also how they'd sneak out drinking underage – that was very my life up north. It was like Skins before Skins. There was the drugs, the mum being a swinger, all that crazy stuff. It was multidimensional, multifaceted, rather than just the queer storyline.

When I was in Year 7 I'd kiss girls and was completely mortified by it, which I think was internalised homophobia. So watching Sugar Rush was a guilty pleasure at the time, and relatable to me. But there was also, like, things like masturbation in it – didn't Kim use a toothbrush? Basically, no one spoke about that stuff when I was that age, but Sugar Rush did.

I think I was 14 or 15 when I started watching Sugar Rush. My uncle had a digi-box, which meant I could watch repeats of old episodes in a three-hour binge. I'd basically lock myself in my room, be like, 'Okay, bye!' and dyke out.

I was figuring it all out at the time, and Sugar Rush was important on that level. I found it so funny when they’d zoom in on Sugar's tits, or how Kim would get hot and flustered if Sugar just spoke to her – that was literally me at school. But also, it was the only fucking thing. It was pre-L Word for me. I was intrigued, I had certain feelings, and here was something on TV that represented how I felt.

I did always feel a bit sorry for Kim, because Sugar obviously didn't fancy her back. And when they got together it was bittersweet, because it was like… she pity-fucked you! And I'll never forget that line that was like, 'I don't want minge! It's got toilet paper stuck in it!' That's offensive! I was like… 'Babe! I don't want that either.'

I read the Julie Burchill book, flagged as the "first lesbian teen novel" first. It was pink, had hearts all over and a fake sticker claiming there was explicit content slapped on it. I did get a high-energy sugary thrill every time I took lunchtime trips to the library to read it – I was in Year 7 or 8 and wouldn't have been allowed to take it out because it was in the older section. I loved her saying that the skin of a girl you fancied was like a strawberry and cream Chupa Chups lolly. It made perfect sense at a time when girls really did walk around smelling like artificial candy, from Britney perfume or Body Shop lip balm or whatever.

When the TV show came out I was delighted. I watched it in private too. Seeing attraction on screen, played out by real girls, brought every part of it alive. Sugar was played by an actress called Lenora, and while she looked different, her attitude, manner of speech and penchant for hooking up with boys were exactly the same as this girl I was obsessed with, the best mate of one of my schoolmates. She was a Bad Girl™ and I was a nerd. And that's what it was, like Kim says: a sexual obsession. It wasn't a cute crush or anything.

I remember thinking the whole show felt realistic, but still like a fantasy version of what my teen life should've been. Sugar Rush feels ahead of its time now – obviously there are plenty of queer teens on screen, but none of them are British and horny. I hate to think of how it'd be received now. Sugar would probably be branded as a problematic bisexual and Americans wouldn't get it.

I must have been in secondary school, but young, when I first watched Sugar Rush. I definitely hadn't seen The L Word yet. All I remember is that I was only interested in it because it was about a girl who fancied her best mate. There was pretty much nothing in terms of queer girl TV in the UK at the time, apart from Eastenders having tenuous lesbian plot lines with Sonia or something. And then it would be in the news the next day, like "blah blah TURNS LESBIAN", then two months later they'd be with a guy.

I was the kid who fancied their best mate, then convinced their best mate to make out with them at parties. But I was also Sugar in the sense that I was a messy, rebellious kid. I related to both of them.

It's hard to watch it now without having a critical lens. When you're a kid, you're like, "Ooooh, gay intrigue, I hope they have sex." Whereas now I'm like… 'Sugar's kind of homophobic.' I really want to watch it properly again and tear it apart, but in a loving way.

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@daisythejones