You: The Evolution of Joe Goldberg — From Delusional Romantic to Delusional Prisoner
By Trinity Barnette
Joe’s Psychology Was Never About Love
For five seasons, You tried to paint Joe Goldberg as a hopeless romantic who just made “a few bad choices” in the name of love.
But let’s be real: Joe was never chasing love.
He was chasing control.
Obsession.
Power.
And deep down, a sick fantasy where he could be both the hero and the villain without ever facing the consequences.
Psychologically, Joe shows clear traits of Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD) and Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD):
A blatant lack of empathy for others, even as he claims to care deeply.
Manipulative behavior — using charm, deceit, and violence to maintain power.
A grandiose sense of self-importance, believing he’s “better” and “smarter” than everyone around him.
A total disregard for moral laws and the rights of others, rationalizing every murder as “necessary.”
His emotional wiring is broken in a terrifying way — and not in the “poor sad boy” way the early seasons sometimes made you think.
Joe isn’t lost.
He’s dangerous — because he believes his evil is justified.
Joe’s Erotomania: Fantasy vs Reality
Joe’s pathology runs even deeper with signs of erotomania —
a delusional disorder where someone believes others are secretly in love with them, even without any real evidence.
From Beck to Love to Marienne to Bronte, Joe believed he was owed their affection.
Their boundaries, fears, or rejection didn’t matter.
In Joe’s mind, love was inevitable — because he decided it was.
And when reality shattered that fantasy?
He didn’t adjust.
He eliminated the problem.
Trauma Isn’t an Excuse
Yes, Joe had a traumatic childhood — one filled with neglect, violence, and instability.
And yes, that trauma likely shaped his distorted view of relationships, love, and safety.
But trauma explains behavior.
It doesn’t excuse it.
Millions of people survive horrific childhoods without becoming stalkers, kidnappers, or serial killers.
Joe made the choice, again and again, to embrace his darkness instead of confronting it.
And by Season 5, he wasn’t even fighting it anymore.
He was indulging it.
Joe Goldberg wasn’t a romantic.
He wasn’t a victim.
He wasn’t even conflicted by the end.
He was — and always had been — a monster dressed in bookstore sweaters and sweet words, spinning lies even he eventually believed.
Season-by-Season Breakdown — Joe’s Evolution into a True Monster
Season 1: The Illusion of the “Good Guy”
At first glance, Joe Goldberg seemed like a classic Nice Guy —
Bookish. Sensitive. Romantic.
But Season 1 made it clear fast: Joe’s version of love was possession.
He stalks Guinevere Beck relentlessly.
Kills anyone who “gets in the way” of their “relationship” — including Benji, Peach, and eventually Beck herself.
Frames everything — from hacking her phone to literal murder — as acts of “protection.”
Joe wasn’t saving Beck.
He was erasing her agency to build the fantasy he needed.
And when Beck saw him for what he really was?
He killed her too.
Season 2: Reinvention and Deeper Denial
After Beck’s murder, Joe flees to Los Angeles, determined to “start over” under a fake identity: Will Bettelheim.
He promises himself he’ll change — but change was never on the table.
He stalks Love Quinn almost immediately.
Kills again — Henderson (the celebrity predator), Jasper (who tracked him), and attempts to kill Candace (his ex, now hunting him).
Ends up trapped when Love turns out to be just as violent and unhinged as he is.
Rather than accepting responsibility, Joe pivots his fantasy:
Maybe he’s not the monster — maybe they’re both misunderstood.
Spoiler: he still thinks he’s the good guy.
Season 3: The Breakdown of the Family Fantasy
Joe tries to embrace domestic life in Season 3, settling in Madre Linda with Love and their newborn son, Henry.
But suburban monotony suffocates him.
He becomes obsessed with Marienne, a local librarian.
He and Love spiral into mutual violence, resentment, and infidelity.
Joe murders again, while rationalizing every death as “necessary” for Henry’s future.
When Love tries to stop him from leaving her, Joe poisons and kills her — then fakes his own death, abandons his son, and flees the country.
Family life didn’t save Joe.
It simply revealed the truth:
Joe will always choose himself.
Season 4: The Fight Against Himself — and His Final Surrender
In Season 4, Joe fled to London under the name Jonathan Moore, trying once again to suppress the monster inside him.
But Joe’s greatest enemy this time wasn’t a lover, or a rival, or a stalker.
It was himself.
After faking Marienne’s death and assuming a new identity, Joe gets entangled with London’s ultra-wealthy elite — and forms a cautious bond with Kate.
A series of murders shakes the elite circle, attributed to the mysterious “Eat the Rich Killer.”
Joe tries to believe he’s changed — that he’s not a killer anymore.
But the horrifying truth is revealed:
Joe was the killer all along.
In a fractured mental break, Joe had created an alternate persona — an imaginary version of Rhys Montrose — to carry out the killings without conscious guilt.
Joe wasn’t fighting to be good.
He was fighting to stay blind to who he really was.
And when faced with the full truth of his nature?
Joe doesn’t repent.
He embraces it.
By the end of Season 4, Joe chooses power, wealth, and control over redemption — leaving behind any last illusions that he was ever the “good guy.”
Season 5: The Final Collapse — Joe’s Prison of His Own Making
At the start of Season 5, Joe Goldberg appears to have everything he ever wanted.
He’s married to Kate and living a wealthy, public life.
He’s raising Henry.
He’s maintained the illusion that he’s changed.
For five years, Joe keeps the monster at bay.
But true to his nature, Joe eventually relapses — fixating on a woman named Bronte who works in his bookstore.
What Joe doesn’t realize is that Bronte isn’t just another obsession.
She’s undercover, determined to expose him for the murders of Guinevere Beck, Love Quinn, and others.
In the final episodes:
Bronte forces Joe to confront his past by making him rewrite Beck’s book with the real truth.
Joe fights back violently — nearly killing Bronte in a desperate attempt to silence her.
But Bronte survives, shoots Joe, and ensures that justice is finally served.
Joe is arrested and convicted.
The crimes he spent years rationalizing, hiding, and twisting into self-delusions finally catch up with him.
By the end, Joe is sentenced to multiple life terms in prison.
But even behind bars, Joe refuses accountability.
In a chilling final voiceover, he mutters:
“Maybe the problem isn’t me. Maybe it’s you.”
Joe Goldberg’s story ends as he lived — a man who could never accept the truth:
That he was not the hero.
That he was never the victim.
That he was the monster — all along.
Final Reflection:
You Was Never a Love Story
“You” didn’t end with a redemption arc.
It ended with brutal honesty:
Monsters who refuse to change do not deserve redemption.
Joe Goldberg wasn’t a romantic.
He wasn’t a tortured hero.
He was a predator — obsessed not with love, but with control.
And in the end, the only person Joe truly loved was himself.
