Erased in Plain Sight: The Brutality Against Women of Color in Netflix's Show, You
- Andrea M Escalante
- Apr 9
- 4 min read

The TV series You, an American psychological thriller based on Caroline Kepnes’s novels, follows Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley)—a charming, obsessive serial killer. While the show critiques Joe’s toxic obsession with white women, it simultaneously dehumanizes women of color (WOC), using them as narrative tools rather than granting them full complexity or continuity across the series.

Joe is framed as a brooding genius, yet he tears through the lives of people of color, destroying their futures and narratives, and denying them the chance to become recurring or fully developed characters. Like many serial killer-centered narratives, You reinforces the association of whiteness with depth and humanity, making Joe more fascinating than he deserves to be. Meanwhile, the lives of women of color are framed as disposable or less worthy of exploration. Ironically, it’s often the WOC characters who are the first to see through Joe’s façade.
This pattern is evident throughout the show, particularly in Seasons 1 and 2. Karen Minty, Peach Salinger, and sisters Delilah and Ellie are violently affected by Joe’s presence. Despite his confidence, Joe fails to fully conceal his dark nature—especially from the women of color in his orbit.

Karen Minty, played by Natalie Paul, is introduced as a short-lived rebound. Her primary function becomes clear: to warn Guinevere Beck about Joe’s violent nature. She tells Beck, “Turns out, you’re my ‘get out of Joe free’ card.” Karen is sharp, emotionally perceptive, and quick to pick up on Joe’s toxicity. While she escapes him—a rare outcome for a WOC in the show—her story is quickly discarded.
White women in You are given the luxury of ignoring red flags. They have the privilege of remaining oblivious, protected under the guise of Joe’s twisted idea of love. Beck, for example, idealizes Joe as someone who can fill the emotional void left by her absent, drug-addicted father. In contrast, WOC are not allowed to indulge in these delusions. They see Joe’s danger for what it is, making them immune to his white savior persona—and ultimately expendable.

Peach Salinger (played by Filipina-Irish-Scottish, Shay Mitchell) becomes another casualty of Joe’s wrath. After surviving his first attempt on her life, Peach continues to warn Beck. Joe later kills her in a struggle and stages it as suicide. Her death is violent and public, occurring during a run in Central Park—her brown body erased in daylight.
The show complicates her character by revealing Peach’s unhealthy fixation on Beck, thus “justifying” her removal and restoring audience sympathy for Joe’s warped perspective.
Notably, Beck endures no visible violence until her final episode. Even Candace, Joe’s ex, is never shown being killed—her death is merely implied. When Joe finally kills Beck, it’s a strangulation scene handled with a strange restraint compared to the graphic portrayal of WOC deaths.

The violence escalates in Season 2 as Joe relocates to Los Angeles in pursuit of Love Quinn, another white woman who turns out to be a serial killer. Carmela Zumbado’s character, Delilah, begins to suspect Joe’s true identity. Her investigation ends in a brutal death—this time at the hands of Love, who sees Delilah as a threat to their “perfect” American family. The camera lingers on Delilah’s body: throat slashed, blood pooling, the violence repeated in flashbacks. In contrast, white women receive more sanitized exits—less graphic, more dignified.

Joe’s violence is excused once again when the audience is asked to redirect their disgust toward Love. Her role as a female serial killer introduces a false equivalency, suggesting that men and women are equally violent in relationships. But this ignores real-world data, where men perpetrate intimate partner violence more frequently and more severely. (See CDC statistics on IPV)

In the aftermath, Ellie—Delilah’s younger sister, played by Jenna Ortega—is left to pick up the pieces. Joe attempts to “make things right” by sending her money and keeping her hidden, but she disappears from the narrative entirely. When she confronts him with raw, emotional honesty—“You ruined my life”—her pain is never truly acknowledged or addressed by the show. With Season 5 looming, Ellie’s return feels unlikely.
Meanwhile, Joe and Love’s relationship persists through Season 3, only to end in her off-screen death. He fakes his own demise (again) and vanishes. The show remains consistent in one respect: protecting white women from overtly graphic violence while subjecting WOC to brutal, visible ends.

This pattern continues with Marienne Bellamy, the Black librarian introduced in Seasons 3 and 4. Her arc is emotionally and physically exhausting—she loses custody of her daughter, flees to Paris, and ultimately fakes her death to escape Joe. Her suffering is deeply felt, yet treated as a stepping stone for Joe’s continued evolution. The show doesn’t shy away from depicting her trauma in intimate detail, contrasting sharply with the more discreet treatment of white characters’ pain.
In You, violence against WOC is graphic, emotional, and final. Meanwhile, white women are protected, romanticized, or sanitized—even when they die. This reflects broader societal narratives where WOC suffering is normalized or minimized, and their characters flattened to serve the plot.
With Season 5 approaching, it remains unclear whether the series will address its racialized portrayals of violence. But if the past is any indicator, WOC in You will continue to be victims—of Joe’s brutality and the show’s blind spots.