“Hey, quick! Turn on the TV, we’re going to miss Kim’s wedding!” I dart across the room as my eyes watch the clock hit 9 p.m. –– it’s prime time. All of a sudden I am bombarded with images of bodacious Kardashian rumps as Kim struggles to fit into her tight, chi-chi, Vera Wang gown. Intentionally, the camera pans left to Kourtney who is gazing at Kim. Then, the screen starts to flash images of Kourt’s rollercoaster romance with self-proclaimed “Lord” Disick, leaving us to wonder: is Kourtney jealous of Kim getting married? Dun-dun-duh; the plot thickens. And just like that I am sucked in, unable to turn my eyes away from the spray-tanned, larger-than-life Armenian family that is the “Kardashian Klan.”

But why such a fixation on the Kardashians? This question plagues the minds of many hoity-toity “intellectuals” who scorn the Kardashian Kash empire and patronize the “white trash” who are stupid enough to indulge in their animal-printed brand. They believe the obsession with reality TV is proof of the demise of our popular culture. Adding fuel to the fire, USA Today’s poll conducted by psychiatrist Dr. Gail Saltz reports “24 percent of reality TV viewers consider themselves neurotic, compared to only 14 percent of non viewers.” But let’s take a closer look at this statistic.

According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, neurotic means “tending to worry in a way that is not healthy or reasonable.” So to clarify, the survey concludes that people who watch reality TV are consequently more anxious. However, I argue that by providing a humorous look at the dysfunctional lives and relationships of others, reality TV actually allows you to keep your life in perspective and helps to minimize anxieties by providing an escape from everyday monotony.

I am not saying that reality TV isn’t stupid. Because believe me, it is. But isn’t that the joy of it? Do I feel bad when "Jersey Shore"’s “meatball” Snooki is in a puddle of tears as the police drag her uncovered behind into the back of a cop car? Nope. Or when Daddy’s girl Lauren can’t get the diamond encrusted tiara for her "Super Sweet Sixteen?" Of course not. However, it does make me feel a little better about that 60 percent I received on my Precalculus test. What Dr. Saltz doesn’t realize is that people who watch reality TV aren’t watching because they are deeply invested in the plot or because they feel a deep connection with the characters. Instead people watch because comparing their problems to the ridiculous ones of reality celebs allows them to put life into perspective.

To realize, yes, I did get in a fight with my mom today, but at least she hasn’t hawked my siblings and me on national TV to further her own fame like the "Jon and Kate Plus 8" catastrophe. Or yes, my voice did crack in front of my class today, but at least I wasn’t singing for Simon Cowell when it happened. The real beauty of reality TV is that whenever you think you’ve got it bad, you can always find someone who has it worse. It’s as simple as flipping to MTV; you're addicted to biting your nails, there’s a woman addicted to drinking her own urine. You gain ten pounds, there’s the life story of the four-hundred pound man. By watching other people deal with monstrous problems, your own problems are actually minimized--and as a result you have less of tendency to worry, not more. I don’t need fancy therapy sessions to help my anxiety. My solution is simple: turn on Bravo.

Right now on Bravo, you have about a 90 percent chance of tuning into an episode of some "Real Housewives" show. And as the drama unfolds, you can’t help but laugh. By watching forty year old women bicker aimlessly about who-said-what and who-gave-who a mean look, it provides an outlet for your frustrations. By laughing at the foolishness of others, you are simultaneously releasing some of the anxiety that comes from your hectic life, not getting more of it. Because when you spend all day at school and come home to five hours of homework, watching a show about the molecular velocity of an atom just isn’t that appealing.

Or how about when your Dad gets home after sitting in two hours of rush hour traffic, do you think he wants to watch the 6 o’clock news report of rampant crime? Or does he want to watch adults fall off a super-sized playground on "Wipeout?" If your dad is like mine, he’ll choose "Wipeout" every time. So yes, sometimes it is okay to stoop down to the “trash” level and let yourself indulge in the guilty pleasure that is reality TV. Those who watch reality TV are less stressed out because they have chosen to take the time to unwind. It’s time for Americans to stop taking themselves so seriously, because, news flash: the people who watch reality TV aren’t the dumb ones.

But who is to say that there aren’t hidden lessons in reality TV? Why is it okay for parents to encourage their children to “dream big” and at the same time, condemn those who live with the extravagance of those dreams? Why not let children see the blacked-out Hummers, ginormous white yachts and Barbie-Dream-House-esque mansions?

Why not exalt in the fabulousness of others instead of pettily shaming it? I don’t see the difference between encouraging your kid to work hard in school so that he can grow up and live “comfortably” (we all know that means rich) and letting him watch reality TV once in a while, as an unorthodox form of motivation. Such hypocrites. These Princetonian parents are too judgmental to recognize the benefits of reality TV. Unable to unwind from a culture that is quick to judge others based on what programs they watch, too many are missing out on this simple cure for neuroticism.