Mamamia recaps MAFS: Bec (and her dog) are being gaslit. - Mamamia

TV Reality TV Entertainment by Anna Downes  March 24, 2026 Okay, deep breaths everyone. It's part two of Home Stays – and no, we're not emotionally prepared to see Sam become a cow farmer against his will. Nor are we keen to see another of Bec's meltdowns. But these are the risks we take with MAFS, so on we go. Alissa and David have touched down in Adelaide. Greeting them at the airport is a giant poster of Alissa, and David is fully intimidated. "Are we gonna walk down the street and get mobbed?"  Watch: Gia and Bec clash at the first MAFS dinner party. Post continues below. Video via Mamamia. ADVERTISEMENT (For context, Alissa is not just a 'nurse' and 'social media manager' as her title cards proclaim – she's also a model and lifestyle/fitness influencer with a big local following. Adelaide-famous. Niche, but potent.) David is nervous because, much like Stella and Filip, their relationship hinges on relocation. The current plan is for them both to move to Sydney, but Alissa ultimately wants to raise kids close to her mum in Adelaide – so there's a certain pressure on him to like the place.  No worries, because Alissa's mum, Belinda, is friendly, supportive and just wants the best for her daughter… right? Absolutely. Which is why her first move, when the couple pop round for a cheeky wine, is to drag Alissa for the 'standoff' at the altar. "I couldn't believe you were digging your heels in," she says, appalled. "I'm a shit-stirrer," Alissa admits, chastened. "I'm reckless." "I love her," Mum continues, turning to David, "but she can be too much for me. Is she too much for you?" I'm shocked. But then I remember the wedding. Alissa's whooping 'wild child' energy, and Belinda at the ceremony, telling everyone what a handful her daughter is. I called it back then: certain aspects of Alissa's personality have been directly shaped by her mother's negging. Am I about to be proved right? Image: Nine. ADVERTISEMENT I'll let you decide. When Alissa floats the idea of a year or two in Sydney before making a more permanent move to Adelaide, Belinda shuts it right down. "I would hate that." "You don't want to keep putting it off," she continues, referring to pregnancy. 'The biological clock is ticking, we can't wait forever. You don't have a couple of years to take it easy and see how you go." Quick reminder: Alissa is 33. Later, with her personal autonomy undermined and fear of failure fully activated, Alissa breaks down. Weeping with stress, she calls herself a "pain in the arse" while her mum just nods. It takes some people years to fall pregnant, Belinda says. She's seen women waste their time and lose their opportunities, and this will definitely happen to Alissa if she moves to Sydney, even for a year. So she'd better just stay at home and have babies RIGHT NOW. It is… a lot. Image: Nine. ADVERTISEMENT The good news is that David's ready to go all in. Adelaide? Fine. Whatever works. The bad news? Alissa is now so freaked out she's all but ready to pull the plug. Fortunately, Alissa's besties are stone-cold legends. At an emergency summit meeting in a pub, they validate their girl AND advocate for David, whose needs have gotten super lost. They then wisely counsel Alissa to chill out. Slow down. Enjoy the spark. Take time to integrate your lives. It'll happen. Doesn't have to be tomorrow.  I'd also like to add: maybe avoid life advice from Belinda? Just a thought.  Image: Nine. ADVERTISEMENT You know who else is in Radelaide? Bec and Danny. And top of the agenda is meeting Bec's 'daughter'. No, not a human child. A dog. Who, according to Bec, falls instantly for Danny and he for her.  "She's not like that with men, ever!" she squeals. "It's such a good feeling to see the love Danny has for Coco."  I'm just seeing polite tolerance, but okay, let's pretend they're mutually obsessed.  Leading her man from room to room, Bec points out the couch he will sit on, the bed he will sleep in, the lawn he will mow – hopefully for the rest of his life. Because if he doesn't love her, he might at least love her house.  "I told you I was gonna go find you a daddy," she tells the dog.  Danny's responses are about as beige as the furniture. Never mind – maybe lunch will perk things up? At her parents' place, Danny wears an actual dinner jacket (why?) and fields questions about moving. "Could you see yourself living here?" Bec's cousin asks.  Danny hesitates – and I'm not kidding, you can literally see him working out how to lie. "I could, yeah," he says at last. His facial expression, however, says: "I'd rather die." "Big change," says her mum. "Is it, though?" says Danny. "I can always fly back." The vibe worsens from there. Bec announces she's in love. Then, proudly, she tells her family that Danny calls himself Black Caviar because every woman he's ever been with has said I love you first. "He's never lost a race." ADVERTISEMENT Image: Nine. Bec's dad pretends to find this funny.  "But he doesn't love me back," she adds.  The fake smile drops. Dad drags Danny outside to the balcony for a word – because surely he'll set this wannabe gangster straight if it's the last thing he does? Nope. They chat about pie and how doting Bec is. "Sometimes it's a bit too much," Danny laughs. The old man says nothing. Onya, Dad.   ADVERTISEMENT Image: Nine. Meanwhile, Bec's mum and cousin try to process this nonsense. "He shows he loves me in different ways," Bec says. "Like, he asked me to be his girlfriend."  They blink.  "I just feel like this is it." ADVERTISEMENT Bec's cousin smiles politely while Mum fully checks out. Later that night, over cheese and cabanossi in the backyard, Bec attempts a serious chat. She's all in; Adeleide or Melbourne, she'll do anything. But Danny can't get on board. He cracks jokes at everything – the planes in the sky, the food, the dog, her cousin. "I feel like Danny's holding off on telling me he loves me," Bec tells producers. "He's just trying to find the right time." Image: Nine. ADVERTISEMENT Oh, honey. There's a brief flicker of sincerity when Danny says something heartfelt about her family – and poor Bec thinks it's time, it's gonna happen. She leans in… but when he busts out yet another gag, she snaps. And he snaps back, because Bec's attitude means he'll "get crucified in the edit." "In the edit?" she says. "What are you talking about? This is real life!"  And herein lies the problem. He's filming a TV show. She's believes it's real. That has been the issue from the start. Predictably, the situation unravels. Both perspectives get completely lost. And Bec walks out. Because that's what she does. This time, though, Danny is seething. Because he's stuck in her house with nowhere to go. It's a right old mess.  Elsewhere, Sam and Chris head to the Southern Highlands… in absolute silence. Chris is giving ice queen again – and poor Sam looks terrified. Do we blame him? Not at all. Chris voted to leave, and now he's freezing Sam out while simultaneously driving him to the middle of nowhere? It's a hard no from me. Sam has no power or agency in this situation and I'm very scared for him.  Upon arrival, Chris shows Sam the child-sized bunk beds in which he'll apparently be sleeping. Sam is then given some dry flowers sitting in the dirtiest water imaginable, and a card that says WELCOME TO THE FARM SAM in thick black marker. Image: Nine. ADVERTISEMENT "These are my cows," says Chris, pointing to a field. It's genuinely unsettling.  They find a horse to stroke. Chris says he hopes Sam feels at home. Sam says he absolutely does not. He's devastated by the 'leave' vote and doesn't know how to repair the damage. He asks for clarity. Has Chris managed any self-reflection?  Image: Nine. To his credit, Chris acknowledges that he could've handled things better. The experts helped him see that he has a lot of work to do. And now he hopes they can reset.  ADVERTISEMENT This is good. Sam is happy; he finally feels heard. They hug it out. The horse approves. I unclench slightly.  But the next day, Sam wakes up alone. Chris is gone. No text, no note, not even a sinister card. Nothing.  Turns out he just went to the gym. But bro, at least leave a message! This is your house! Don't just leave the guy on his own! Chris comes back buzzing. He loves the country! This is his vibe! Let's make a fire and drink whiskey! Life is great! Yes, it is – when you only consider your own experience. But when you disregard other people, especially the spectacle-wearing, deep-thinking journal writers among us, you will not get off lightly.  Armed with his diary, Sam requests permission to get "raw" and "honest." Chris rolls his eyes. Sam then reads aloud from a list of questions. "Do you take full responsibility for your aggression? Do you accept that the experts were right? Do you promise never to speak to me like that again?" Image: Nine. ADVERTISEMENT And look, I love Sam – but it's like that episode of Friends where Rachel writes Ross an 18-page letter. Except that he and Chris are alone, on a farm, and it's not clear how far the nearest town is. Not a wise idea. The final question is: "Do you have feelings for me?" "Um…" says Chris. "I, uh… I don't want to dwell on the negatives." Yeah, that's what we thought.  Closing his journal, Sam heads inside to pack. I half expect Chris to appear in the doorway with a hatchet for one final showdown – but no, he stays outside, happily tending his cows, while Sam makes a quiet exit down a gravel path. And as he trundles off into the sunset, I smile. Because he did not end up buried in a paddock. He survived. He is the final girl. And he no longer has to date Chris. Which, to me, is the happiest of all possible endings.  Listen to the latest episode of Mamamia Out Loud, for what women are actually talking about. Post continues below. Join me next time for the penultimate dinner party, where everyone will scream, cry, and behave appallingly while we at home take comfort in one beautiful truth: only one more cage fight to go.  Woohoo! See ya then! Feature image: Nine. Anna Downes  Author Follow Comments Be the first to comment Log in to comment