Married At First Sight 2026 hasn't even begun, and there's already one glaring problem.

It's exhausting, truly. We're in 2026, and yet here we are again, staring down the barrel of another season of Married At First Sight Australia that feels like it's deliberately turning its back on diversity. 

As a woman of colour myself and someone who genuinely wants to see Australian television reflect the actual Australia I live in, this year's cast list for MAFS is just a punch to the gut.

I was looking it over, hoping for some sign that things might finally be changing, and what did I find?

A sea of white faces, with maybe one exception that feels more like a reluctant nod than a genuine embrace of what modern Australia looks like. It's the very definition of a "token person of colour" kind of year, and honestly, it's beyond disappointing.

Thank god for David because, it's looking grim.

What makes it sting even more is that we're coming off such a high. Just recently, we saw Sunny win The Golden Bachelor — a fantastic moment that showed a mature, non-white woman being celebrated and desired on mainstream reality TV. It proved that audiences are hungry for different stories, different faces, and different kinds of love. It demonstrated that diversity isn't the risk so many think it is. 

Watch: Married At First Sight 2026 teaser. Article continues after video.

So, to swing back to MAFS 2026, where the casting feels like a stark regression, is incredibly frustrating. It's like taking two steps forward with one show, only to be dragged three steps back by another, equally massive, program.

MAFS has always struggled with this, but it feels particularly egregious now. We've seen the show fumble diversity in the past, often to the detriment of the participants of colour. I remember the pain of watching Selina Chhaur in Season 9, an Asian-Australian woman, have her heritage explicitly cited as a reason for her partner's lack of attraction.

It was heartbreaking and infuriating, and it highlighted a systemic problem: the show not only lacked diverse casting but also seemed ill-equipped to protect and support the few diverse individuals it did cast. 

There were so many conversations then about whether the show truly understood the implications of casting someone with overt racial biases, and it felt like Selina was left to navigate that trauma largely on her own, for our entertainment.

Selina Chhaur and Cody Bromley. Image: Nine

Just last year, we saw the absolute train wreck that was Jake's photo-ranking task, which was easily one of the most overtly racist moments in the franchise's history. We sat there in disbelief as Jake thoughtlessly proclaimed, "I'm not racist, but I do like Caucasian people mostly," while explaining why he ranked Awhina lower because of her ethnicity.

It was a big yikes moment that went out on national TV, proving that for some grooms, having a type is just a thin veil for deep-seated prejudice.

Then there's the subtle, insidious problem of what happens when diversity is presented as an anomaly. When you have an overwhelmingly white cast, the few people of colour stand out, often becoming representatives of their entire race or culture, rather than just individuals on a journey of love.

It puts an unfair burden on them. And when their relationships falter, or when they face challenges, it can unfortunately feed into lazy stereotypes, or make it seem like diversity doesn't work on reality TV. 

While it is certainly a welcome change to see more sexualities represented this year, it makes the glaring lack of racial diversity feel even more like a calculated oversight.

The excuse often trotted out is that "diverse people just aren't applying." But honestly, that feels like a cop-out. If a massive, incredibly popular show like MAFS truly wanted to foster a diverse pool of applicants, they would put in the work.

Jake Luik and Ashleigh Ackerman. Image: Nine

They would create an environment where people from all backgrounds feel safe, supported, and genuinely seen, rather than just being a token slot to fill. They would actively seek out different stories and experiences, rather than relying on a narrow template of what makes for good reality TV.

It's not just about seeing different skin colours; it's about showcasing the rich tapestry of Australian life, the varied cultural backgrounds, the different ways people express love, and the challenges unique to those experiences. 

When I watch MAFS, I want to see a reflection of myself, my friends, my neighbours, and the vibrant, multicultural country we live in.

Instead, in 2026, I'm seeing a show that, despite its massive platform and influence, still seems content to play it safe, stick to the familiar, and ultimately, reinforce a very narrow, outdated view of Australia. 

At this point, it's genuinely tiring. We deserve better.

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Feature Image: Nine.