An Uneven Power Dynamic with a Frustrating ML
My Dearest Nemesis attempts to present a compelling workplace romance, but its portrayal of the male lead (ML) significantly undermines the narrative. The ML, a textbook "nepo kid," has been handed a CEO position despite lacking the skills to run a street vending stall, let alone manage a company. While this setup could provide room for growth, the ML's immaturity remains frustratingly stagnant.
Despite being an adult in age, the ML behaves like a teenager at best—obsessed with childish antics, toys, and lacking any sense of responsibility. This makes his dynamic with the female lead (FL) incredibly lopsided. While their physical age gap is only a few years, the FL is a capable and responsible adult, highlighting just how emotionally stunted the ML is. Their relationship doesn't resemble a typical May-December romance; instead, it feels like a mature woman constantly trying to guide an overgrown child.
To make matters worse, the ML awkwardly reveals that his first kiss happened when he was already old enough to have children. He declares this like a badge of inexperience, essentially admitting to the FL that he's a virgin and doubting his own ability to be a good partner. This moment, intended to be vulnerable, instead comes across as painfully childish and embarrassing, further emphasizing his lack of maturity.
On top of his immaturity, the ML behaves like a cowardly little kid who seems as though he might piss his pants if his grandmother scolded him. He constantly avoids confrontation, shirks responsibility, and relies on others to fix his problems, making him an exhausting presence rather than a compelling lead.
Episode 7 further highlights the ML's troubling behavior when he follows the FL to a private meeting with her brother, father, and her brother's girlfriend. This act crosses boundaries on multiple levels—both as her boss and as someone pursuing her romantically. His actions were intrusive, disrespecting her privacy and personal space. It underscores his entitled "nepo kid" attitude, showing complete disregard for basic manners, boundaries, and even legal norms concerning stalking. Instead of demonstrating care or affection, his behavior felt childish and borderline criminal.
By the end of Episode 7, the ML's love confession feels less like a heartfelt declaration and more like a desperate plea for sympathy. Rather than expressing genuine love, he leans heavily on his sad backstory, turning the moment into a pity party rather than a meaningful confession. Even more disappointing is the FL's response—agreeing to a secret relationship in which the ML refuses to proudly acknowledge her because he's afraid of his grandmother's reaction. This lack of courage and respect makes one question if the ML is truly capable of having an adult relationship just because he's physically grown. The FL accepting this disrespect out of sympathy feels absurd, diminishing her otherwise strong character.
The ML's fear of his controlling grandmother further emphasizes his lack of growth. Instead of standing up to her, he remains passive despite her unfairly blaming him for his parents' death. While his tragic backstory could have provided depth, it instead becomes an excuse for his stunted development. Rather than offering him comfort and support, his grandmother cruelly projected her grief onto him, instilling trauma that seemingly froze him in a childlike state.
The frustrating part is that this dynamic isn't played for meaningful character growth or thoughtful commentary on privilege and responsibility. Instead, the ML's behavior is often excused or overlooked, making it difficult to root for the couple or take the relationship seriously. The FL's professionalism and maturity deserve a far stronger counterpart, yet she is left cleaning up the ML's messes more than connecting with him as an equal.
While My Dearest Nemesis may offer moments of charm, its flawed portrayal of the ML's arrested development drags the story down, ultimately making it a frustrating watch for those seeking a balanced and engaging romance.
Despite being an adult in age, the ML behaves like a teenager at best—obsessed with childish antics, toys, and lacking any sense of responsibility. This makes his dynamic with the female lead (FL) incredibly lopsided. While their physical age gap is only a few years, the FL is a capable and responsible adult, highlighting just how emotionally stunted the ML is. Their relationship doesn't resemble a typical May-December romance; instead, it feels like a mature woman constantly trying to guide an overgrown child.
To make matters worse, the ML awkwardly reveals that his first kiss happened when he was already old enough to have children. He declares this like a badge of inexperience, essentially admitting to the FL that he's a virgin and doubting his own ability to be a good partner. This moment, intended to be vulnerable, instead comes across as painfully childish and embarrassing, further emphasizing his lack of maturity.
On top of his immaturity, the ML behaves like a cowardly little kid who seems as though he might piss his pants if his grandmother scolded him. He constantly avoids confrontation, shirks responsibility, and relies on others to fix his problems, making him an exhausting presence rather than a compelling lead.
Episode 7 further highlights the ML's troubling behavior when he follows the FL to a private meeting with her brother, father, and her brother's girlfriend. This act crosses boundaries on multiple levels—both as her boss and as someone pursuing her romantically. His actions were intrusive, disrespecting her privacy and personal space. It underscores his entitled "nepo kid" attitude, showing complete disregard for basic manners, boundaries, and even legal norms concerning stalking. Instead of demonstrating care or affection, his behavior felt childish and borderline criminal.
By the end of Episode 7, the ML's love confession feels less like a heartfelt declaration and more like a desperate plea for sympathy. Rather than expressing genuine love, he leans heavily on his sad backstory, turning the moment into a pity party rather than a meaningful confession. Even more disappointing is the FL's response—agreeing to a secret relationship in which the ML refuses to proudly acknowledge her because he's afraid of his grandmother's reaction. This lack of courage and respect makes one question if the ML is truly capable of having an adult relationship just because he's physically grown. The FL accepting this disrespect out of sympathy feels absurd, diminishing her otherwise strong character.
The ML's fear of his controlling grandmother further emphasizes his lack of growth. Instead of standing up to her, he remains passive despite her unfairly blaming him for his parents' death. While his tragic backstory could have provided depth, it instead becomes an excuse for his stunted development. Rather than offering him comfort and support, his grandmother cruelly projected her grief onto him, instilling trauma that seemingly froze him in a childlike state.
The frustrating part is that this dynamic isn't played for meaningful character growth or thoughtful commentary on privilege and responsibility. Instead, the ML's behavior is often excused or overlooked, making it difficult to root for the couple or take the relationship seriously. The FL's professionalism and maturity deserve a far stronger counterpart, yet she is left cleaning up the ML's messes more than connecting with him as an equal.
While My Dearest Nemesis may offer moments of charm, its flawed portrayal of the ML's arrested development drags the story down, ultimately making it a frustrating watch for those seeking a balanced and engaging romance.
Was this review helpful to you?
