A reset for the franchise
Taylor Frankie Paul is stepping into the lead role on The Bachelorette, and the franchise has never done this before. The 31-year-old Utah influencer and mother of three announced the news on Alex Cooper’s Call Her Daddy podcast, saying it still feels surreal. ABC backed it up with a statement praising her “unfiltered candor” and “fearless openness.”
Here are the firsts. Paul is the first Bachelorette who hasn’t previously appeared on The Bachelor or The Bachelorette. For this franchise, that’s huge. The show almost always lifts its leads from recent seasons to keep fans invested in a familiar face. The only close precedent across the franchise is Matt James on The Bachelor, who debuted as a lead in 2021 without competing on the show first. Paul is also the first leading woman from Utah.
On the podcast, she admitted the reality of the job hasn’t fully hit. “It has not hit me,” she said. “It’s not going to be until the limo’s pulling up, and I’m meeting the people.” She also talked about learning to date in public after a very private path. “I got married young, divorced, and then the first guy I met was the next relationship,” she said. “I have not done the whole meeting new people… I’ve never done that.”
Paul’s season is slated for 2026. That long runway signals that ABC wants time to cast carefully and shape the production around a lead with kids and a large social media footprint. It also suggests a deliberate reset after a busy run of seasons across The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, and newer offshoots.
Paul brings a different résumé than past leads. She rose on TikTok’s #MomTok, built a large following, and then moved into unscripted TV with Hulu’s The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives. The docu‑series, about Utah creators navigating their marriages, friendships, and public scrutiny after a high-profile scandal, earned an Emmy nomination in July for outstanding unstructured reality program. She’s comfortable in front of cameras, but The Bachelorette is a different machine—faster, louder, and structured around one person’s romantic story.
Being a parent will shape the season. The franchise has had leads with children before—Emily Maynard led The Bachelorette as a single mom in 2012—but not a mother of three. Expect casting that skews a bit older and more grounded. Producers will look for men who can handle a fast-paced courtship and also speak honestly about family and long-term commitments. Hometowns, which often feature parents and siblings, could look different when the lead’s own kids are part of the equation and privacy needs are higher.
Logistics matter, too. Paul said she hesitated at first because of co‑parenting and scheduling. Filming usually runs in tight blocks, with travel stacked late in the season. Past leads who were parents saw the show adapt; Emily Maynard’s season kept more production close to home early on. Don’t be surprised if this season staggers travel, builds in breaks, or remains anchored in a single hub longer than usual.
For ABC, this choice doubles as a bet on audience growth. Casting a lead with a big social media following could draw younger viewers who watch clips first and episodes second. Paul’s TikTok-native audience lives on short-form video and expects directness, not warmed-over reality tropes. That lines up with the network’s own language—“unfiltered” and “fearless”—and hints at a season that leans into candor about parenting, boundaries, and faith without turning the show into a referendum on religion.
The Utah angle will loom large. The franchise has filmed in the state before and has featured contestants who are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but not a Bachelorette from there. Utah’s family-first culture and its strong influencer economy helped build Paul’s profile. If producers are smart, they’ll show that world on its own terms—less caricature, more everyday life—while keeping the focus on her relationships.
There’s also the question of tone. Paul’s rise was messy and public. The Hulu series followed the fallout after a swinging scandal made international headlines, and viewers who know her from TikTok expect a version of her that doesn’t dodge hard conversations. The Bachelorette, though, moves fast; it compresses months of getting-to-know-you into a few weeks of filming. The trick will be balancing real discussion with the show’s pace and its signature set pieces—group dates, one-on-ones, and rose ceremonies that leave little room for subtlety.
Fan reaction will likely split along familiar lines. One camp will welcome a fresh lead who wasn’t part of the casting carousel; the other will worry the show is importing social-media drama for quick ratings. The franchise has been here before. When it shakes up the format, it risks alienating loyalists but often buys itself attention. In recent years, attention has been the currency that keeps these shows relevant in a crowded TV market.
Timing is the other wild card. A 2026 premiere breaks with the franchise’s typical yearly rhythm. That extra time could help the show find a cast that fits her life. It also gives Paul space to prepare her family, set boundaries with producers, and decide how much of her off-camera world appears on screen. The show usually blurs or limits the presence of minors; that’s likely here, too.
As for the men she’ll meet, expect a wide age range and a premium on emotional maturity. Producers will still deliver drama—this is The Bachelorette—but they’ll want contenders who can talk about school pick-ups and mortgages as easily as helicopter rides and hot-tub chats. The best-case scenario for the show is simple: a season that feels grounded without losing the escapist fun viewers want on Monday nights.
Paul’s own words set the tone. She knows the limo moment will make it real. She knows she hasn’t dated like this before, and she’s saying so up front. That honesty is what ABC is banking on, and it’s what could make Season 22 feel like a reset rather than a rerun.
Who is Taylor Frankie Paul?
She’s a creator who built her following by showing the chaos and humor of young motherhood, then let viewers in when her life got complicated. On Hulu’s The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives, she and other Utah influencers opened up about marriages, friendships, and the cost of online fame. The series’ Emmy recognition this summer signaled that their story, while tabloid-ready, had resonance far beyond one scandal.
Off camera, Paul keeps saying the same thing: she hasn’t done “the whole meeting new people” phase. That inexperience could be a liability on a show that rewards fast, decisive choices. It could also be why she works. Viewers can spot canned lines. If she talks through the awkward parts and learns in public, she’ll give the season a spine—something to track besides the usual rivalries and mansion blowups.
The next milestones are clear. Casting is underway. Production will shape travel and schedule around a lead who’s a parent. And ABC will drip out the details—key art, first-look video, and the night-one dress—closer to air. When the limos roll up in 2026, Paul won’t just be meeting suitors. She’ll be introducing a retooled version of The Bachelorette that tries to merge two realities: the curated, always-on world of TikTok and the controlled chaos of network dating TV.
