The Carters: Hurts to Love You is a raw and unflinching documentary that delves deep into the troubled inner world of the Carter family. Far from a mere retelling of celebrity misfortune, it becomes a powerful reflection on generational trauma, mental health stigma, and the emotional toll of growing up under a microscope. Through vulnerable interviews, intimate home videos, and painful memories, the film tells the story of the Carter siblings—Nick, Bobbie Jean, Leslie, Angel, and Aaron—but its impact extends beyond one family, offering a voice to anyone who has grown up in chaos, yearning to feel safe, valued, and heard.
The film opens with idyllic home footage: five young children laughing and playing with their parents, presenting an image of familial bliss. But that illusion fades quickly as the story peels back the layers, exposing a foundation built on dysfunction, control, and neglect. What begins as a nostalgic look into a family’s early days, swiftly transforms into a heartbreaking examination of what happens when unresolved trauma is passed down from generation to generation.
At its core, the documentary highlights how generational trauma, fueled by toxic parenting patterns—obsessed with image, control, and financial success—shaped the Carter children’s lives. The most recognizable member of the family, Backstreet Boys’ Nick Carter, doesn’t sit for a formal interview, but offers access to emotional and authentic conversations with his sister Angel. These quiet exchanges reveal a man still burdened by guilt over pursuing his career while his siblings suffered at home. Nick speaks candidly about feeling he abandoned them, and his expressions of regret underscore the emotional scars he undoubtedly still carries from a chaotic upbringing and the devastating loss of multiple siblings to addiction and dysfunction.
Throughout the film, it becomes clear that all five Carter children were simply desperate for love. One poignant story recounts Nick earning his first cash prize after winning a talent competition, recalling how it seemed to be the first time his father looked at him with pride. For both Nick and Aaron, childhood fame became a path to parental approval—where money and success became the currency of affection. This pressure to perform and provide from such a young age instilled a belief that love had to be earned. Aaron, in particular, spent his life chasing that validation, believing his worth was tied solely to his ability to please others by using his performative talent I told . His story, which ends in tragedy, underscores the profound damage caused by conditional love and emotional neglect.
Nick’s journey has also included well-documented struggles with substance abuse, but today he appears to have found stability as a husband and father. Even so, his contributions to the documentary reflect how the pain of the past lingers beneath the surface, a reminder that healing is a process, not a destination, and that the scars from childhood trauma can linger despite the healing one has done.
The documentary also brings long-overdue attention to the lives of Leslie and Bobbie Jean Carter—siblings often overlooked in public narratives. Both struggled with addiction after years of emotional isolation and unresolved trauma, ultimately leading to their premature deaths. Their stories are treated with care and compassion, shedding light on the often-hidden intersections between substance abuse and untreated mental illness.
Angel Carter Conrad, Aaron’s twin and the youngest of the 5 Carter siblings, emerges in this story not as a side character, but as a powerful voice of healing and truth. Her willingness to speak openly about her family’s dysfunction, and to share the unimaginable grief of losing a twin and 2 other siblings, is both courageous and deeply moving. Angel’s role in the documentary is a testament to the strength it takes to survive that kind of environment, and the bravery it requires to step forward and say: this was not okay. Her words serve as a beacon for others who come from similarly chaotic homes. She gives language to a kind of pain that many experience, but few feel allowed to express. By doing so, she helps normalize the reality of surviving a dysfunctional family—and breaks the silence that keeps so many trapped in shame.
Amid the heavy subject matter, one unexpected moment of levity comes from Scout Willis, who shares her childhood memories of meeting Aaron Carter. Her story paints a tender picture of Aaron as a sweet, sincere boy—just wanting to be a kid. These glimpses into Aaron’s innocent nature are both heartwarming and bittersweet, offering contrast to the darkness he faced behind closed doors.
Stylistically, the documentary is restrained yet highly effective. There is no sensationalism, no over-produced dramatization. Instead, it lets the story speak for itself through archival footage, candid interviews, and the heartbreaking juxtaposition of youthful joy and present-day sorrow. The editing is thoughtful and unobtrusive, allowing viewers to process the emotional weight without feeling manipulated.
Visually and structurally minimalist, The Carters: Hurts to Love You chooses authenticity over spectacle. There are no easy villains here. Rather than placing blame on one individual, the film presents a broader critique of systemic dysfunction—how cycles of abuse and neglect perpetuate in families when no one is able to successfully step in. Aaron in particular had a manager , Lori Knight, who seemingly worked to allow Aaron the ability to live out his childhood needs, but without parental support, this ultimately failed. The stories shine a light on the unique vulnerability of children in the public eye, whose fame can often mask deep personal suffering.
One of the documentary’s most powerful messages is that trauma does not have to define the future. Nick and Angel, now the only surviving Carter siblings, are actively choosing a different path for their own children, raising their kids with intention and compassion. Both speak openly about their commitment to breaking the cycle and providing their children with what they themselves never had: stability, emotional safety, and the freedom to simply be kids. These moments of healing are a quiet but powerful reminder that trauma can end where accountability and love begin, and that healing is possible with real, unconditional love.
On a more personal note, this film touches me as a mental health professional. My work as a school-based mental health provider is highly rewarding. However, I recognize that the partnership that is needed with the family in order for us to have a true and lasting impact is so significant. This child in front of us requires a joint, unified community in order to thrive. This film really underscores the importance of that collaborative effort and the necessity of a village when it comes to the responsibility we have to all children. It is heartbreaking that this family did not have access to any adult that they felt would truly take care of them. A poignant comment, made by Angel in the movie, stuck with me. She says that in the darkest of times when your parents should be protecting you, and others are praying on you, they had no one to turn to to pull them out. Part of the work I see before us is ensuring that every child has someone. As a school based professional, we hold that responsibility in the highest regard.
Even more important, is the impact that this film had on me as a parent. As I watched this film, including so much of this home footage of both a happy, loving home as well as a highly dysfunctional family, I am reminded of the necessity of reflection in my own parenting. Any parent should want for their children something more than what they had, regardless of how positive their own childhood experience may have been. It is clear that both Angel and Nick have taken this mission to heart and worked to forge a better life for their children. As a mom, this was a stark reminder that I have to always strive to be better for my kids, and for their generation. When the world gets busy around us and we get sucked into whatever tasks or schedules or routines or drama that we may face, at the heart of everything we do should be this reminder. Because everything we do is for the future.
The Carters: Hurts to Love You is more than a documentary. It is a cautionary tale, a call for compassion, and a tribute to those who are trying to rewrite their stories. For anyone who has ever questioned their worth, felt unseen in their family, or struggled to heal from the past, this film offers validation—and a glimmer of hope.
Watch The Carter’s: Hurts to Love You documentary beginning April 15, streaming on Paramount+.