Okay, back to the present. If you missed the finale (life gets busy), Xochitl Gomez took the crown. She beat Jason Mraz (yes, the “I’m Yours” guy) and Ariana Madix (the Vanderpump Rules queen). It was a tight race.
Jason Mraz was so chill about it, too. He just smiled and probably wrote a song about losing. Ariana Madix danced like her ex-boyfriend was watching, and she had nothing to prove. Power moves only.
But Xochitl? She was a revelation. She’s nineteen, had zero ballroom experience, and yet she floated across the floor. It was like watching a baby deer that suddenly learned how to tango.
The Eternal Question
Here’s the thing: does the winner even matter? Or is it the journey? The terrible costumes? The week where a contestant forgets the paso doble and just… flails?
We tune in for the drama. For the judges being mean to poor Sean Spicer. For the dances that make us cry. The winner is just the cherry on top of a very weird, very sparkly sundae.
So, in the grand scheme of things, you won. Because you got to watch people trip over their own feet while wearing rhinestones. And that is priceless, my friend. Absolutely priceless.
