I first watched One Tree Hill at the tender age of 13. At the time, I thought I was watching it just for a glimpse of my crush, Chad Michael Murray. But after re-watching it in my thirties, I was shocked by how much of myself I saw in the characters, their relationships, and storylines.
One Tree Hill first aired in 2003, following the lives of two half-brothers, Lucas and Nathan Scott, played by Chad Michael Murray and James Lafferty, who attend high school in the fictional town of Tree Hill. We explore their lifelong friendship with Haley James Scott (Bethany Joy Lenz) and follow Lucas' pursuit of Peyton Sawyer Scott (Hilarie Burton), including an ill-advised love triangle with her best friend Brooke Davis Baker (Sophia Bush). Together, these characters have become known as the ‘core five’.
As is bound to happen during a rewatch of any Noughties show, I was surprised by the toxicity of One Tree Hill – especially during the earlier seasons. Take the pilot, when Lucas and Nathan's sibling rivalry sees them playing basketball to win a prize. Said prize? A night spent with Nathan’s then-girlfriend, Peyton, which he generously refuses to claim. Misogyny, fatphobia, and slutshaming were rampant throughout the show. While watching season two, I was surprised to see Lucas' friend Marvin Macfadden exhibit incel-like behaviour and entitlement when rejected by female characters. I also hated seeing Brooke and Peyton being relentlessly characterised as damsels in distress.
The toxicity wasn’t reserved for on-screen moments, either. In 2017, actor Hilarie Burton accused showrunner Mark Schwahn of harassment and assault on set, before other cast members and crew signed an open letter attesting to his behaviour. Schwahn has never spoken publicly about the allegations.
But there was one character who held a particular significance for me. Dan Scott, Nathan and Lucas' father was an unsettlingly realistic depiction of toxic parenting. His relentless pressure on Nathan, his manipulation of Lucas, and the emotional damage he leaves behind feel heavier with age – without delving too deep into my personal archives, I can relate to fractious family relationships. This storyline now feels like a surprisingly nuanced portrayal of generational trauma, exploring how parental expectations can shape and warp young people’s identities.
Even during a rewatch, it's clear that the slow-burning romance between Lucas and Peyton is the show's emotional backbone. Their relationship unfolded across years of bad timing, heartbreak, and personal growth. By the time they finally reunited in season six, it felt like the culmination of one of the show’s most defining love stories.
Like the first time around, I still have so many questions for the One Tree Hill creators. But I'm moved by the evolution of all the characters' relationships. Over time, they move beyond teenage jealousy and competition. They support each other through grief, celebrate each other’s successes, and grow into adulthood together. The show wasn’t just about high school drama; it was about growing up and learning who you are along the way.
Like every other thirtysomething Millennial, we're rewatching the Noughties teen drama
