Let's play a little game. If our most popular reality TV shows were men, what kind of blokes would they be?
There's Googlebox - the goofy, adorable guy who always seems to end up being "friendzoned" by his crushes. Bachelor In Paradise is gorgeous, but emotionally unavailable. I'm A Celeb would be an insane adrenaline junkie.
Married At First Sight is the toxic fling from your 20s you keep climbing into bed with every few years, except now he's just a 40-something toxic fling with a Dad-bod and a pile of mounting debt.
Then, there's MasterChef. He's the nice guy of Australian TV.
He's never late, always picks up the bill and unpacks the dishwasher without being asked. He has really nice sheets. He actually listens to you when you talk. He washes his towels every week.
He reminds you everyday that he loves you and he knows how to communicate his feelings without yelling. He's the dream man.
After weeks of riding the emotional rollercoaster of MAFS and BIP, we're ready for some stability in our lives.
We've deleted their numbers, blocked them on all the socials and have locked in a romantic, emotionally-fulfilling date with the cooking show that's been hanging around for 10 years, just waiting for us to commit.
With its feelgood vibes and heartwarming tear-jerker moments, MasterChef is the show we all deserve.
Here's why it's the best reality show on TV right now and the perfect companion to come home to at night.
Do you think Julie Goodwin went on MasterChef just so she could get 200,000 Instagram followers, some free trips to Bali and a sponsorship deal with a skinny tea company?
No. She signed up because she was hugely passionate about food and wanted to turn it into a career.
MasterChef contestants are so clearly obsessed with food and everyone has a clear goal, whether that be setting up their own restaurant, opening a cute market stall or starting their own line of food products.
Their dreams are specific, achievable and focused.
But most importantly, they're not about self promotion.
They're not doing it for fame or Instagram likes. They're doing it because doing anything else has left them feeling unfulfilled.
That passion and drive is inspiring to watch and the show's "never give up" mantra is an important value we can all adopt in our own lives.
Australian television is constantly referred to as "a whitewash", with brown, black and Asian faces unfairly omitted from the casts of both prime time dramas and trashy reality shows.
One in four Australians were born overseas and one in five of us speak a language other than English at home, according to the most recent ABS figures, but the people we see on TV don't look like the people we see everyday walking down the street.
MasterChef is the only show in Australia that truly reflects our diverse, multicultural population.
Its contestants come from a range of cultural backgrounds, but most importantly, the inclusion of non-white contestants doesn't feel tokenistic.
Multiculturalism is truly celebrated on this show. Contestants speak with gorgeous hybrid voices, a distinct Aussie twang poking through their native accents.
Last year's winner Sashi Cheliah, a former prison officer, is from Singapore but moved to Adelaide in 2012 with his wife and two sons. He wanted to use his $250,000 cash prize to open an Asian fusion restaurant and last August he opened a pop-up restaurant serving Singaporean food in Melbourne's CBD.
They say "You cannot be what you cannot see", and it's important to show young boys who look like Sashi that anything is possible.
George, Gary and Matt make the relationship "experts" on Married At First Sight look like, well, something unprintable.
While the MAFS experts thrived on drama and loved a good lecture about the moral high ground, while rolling around in the gutter themselves, the professional chefs and cooks on MasterChef are the complete opposite.
Yes, their role is to critique food and ultimately they have to make the call each week to send a contestant home, but they don't thrive off people's misery.
Whenever a contestant breaks down after giving an elaborate speech about how much curry means to them (you know it happens EVERY episode and don't pretend like you don't cry into your pinot grigio as well!!), the judges and their fellow contestants don't judge.
They sit quietly, listen respectfully and ask considerate, kind questions to help cheer them up.
Contestants don't root for each other to fail. They don't stab people in the back or pour glasses of wine of each other - remember when that happened??!!
Sure, they all want to win. But they shake hands, wish each other good luck and congratulate the winner at the end.
Now that's how adults should conduct themselves.
WATCH BELOW: The heartwarming moment Australia met Jess Hall on MasterChef. Story continues after video.
Cooking shows have long provided the perfect meditative anecdote to a long, stressful day at work - and MasterChef is no exception.
There's something so relaxing and soothing about watching nice, ordinary people create these elaborate, finnicky dishes that helps us forget about all the petty dramas we dealt with all day.
Sometimes this show can even motivate us to cook better meals, as every Australian who has ever tried to make a croquembouche will attest to.
But most of the time the best way to experience MasterChef is to sit on the couch with your UberEats delivery or dodgy meat-and-three-veg, while shovelling food into your face and yelling things at the TV.
So the next time you're feeling overwhelmed about this often challenging world that we live in - or you're just sick of watching toxic relationships between fame-hungry D-listers - watch an episode of MasterChef, and inject a little dose of joy into your life.