TL;DR
- Colton Underwood says he joined The Traitors as a “safe” way to return to TV without re-litigating his personal life.
- Episode 5 gets tense when Michael Rapaport implies Colton’s closeted past makes him “good at secrets,” so he could be a Traitor.
- Colton says it crossed an unspoken gameplay line: “don’t make it personal.”
- He stayed level-headed, focused on strategy, and says the room knew what Rapaport meant.
- Colton reflects on growth, family life, and refusing to be a “punching bag” anymore.
- He also embraces a new, campier fashion era for Alan Cumming’s castle vibes.

Colton Underwood says he’s done being everyone’s “punching bag” — and The Traitors proved it
Colton Underwood didn’t need to do The Traitors season 4 — and he knows it. The show thrives on tossing wildly different reality stars into Alan Cumming’s Scottish castle and letting fanbases clash like it’s the Hunger Games with tartan. It’s not an endurance grind like Beyond the Edge (which Underwood won), not a fluffy costume romp like The Masked Singer, and definitely not a carefully controlled talky gig like cohosting a dating show. The Traitors is messy on purpose, and Colton has a long history of being treated like a walking controversy headline.
But that’s also why he chose it.
Underwood says he loves competition and wanted a return to television where the drama is mostly about strategy — not his personal trauma. After years of intense scrutiny, he says his priorities have shifted toward mental health and family, and he thought The Traitors would let him participate without reopening every tabloid folder labeled “Colton.” In his words, it felt like a safer lane: show up, play the game, go home.
And then episode 5 happened.

When gameplay turns personal, the air changes
At The Traitors roundtable — the show’s banishment ceremony where accusations fly — Michael Rapaport made a remark that landed like a brick. The insinuation was that because Colton spent years closeted, he must be “good at holding secrets,” and therefore might be a Traitor. It’s the kind of “logic” that only works if you treat someone’s coming-out journey like a plot twist instead of a human life.
Colton admits he was caught off guard, because even in a show built on suspicion, there’s an unspoken rule: keep it about the game. He describes feeling the room shift instantly — like “all the air got sucked out.” And he’s blunt about intent: when someone says that and then claims it wasn’t meant that way, Colton isn’t buying it. The line hit exactly where it was aimed.
More importantly, he frames it as bigger than reality TV. The weaponization of a queer person’s closeted past — treating survival as deception — is a cultural reflex LGBTQ+ people know too well. It’s the same stigma that punishes queer people for not coming out, then punishes them again when they do.

The growth arc people didn’t expect
What made the moment stand out wasn’t just the jab — it was Colton’s response. This time, he didn’t shut down. He didn’t disappear. He didn’t sprint out of the room like old TV seasons trained viewers to expect. He sat there, listened, answered, and stayed in the game.
And he wasn’t alone. He says queer castmates backed him up — even players who had planned to vote against him — and other contestants rallied too. For LGBTQ+ viewers, that solidarity matters: it shows a cast willing to draw a line between strategic gameplay and using identity as ammunition.
Colton says part of why he handled it differently is simple: he has a family now, a husband, and a child. He’s more deliberate about what he signs up for, but he’s also more grounded. He knows he’s polarizing — adored by some, despised by others — and he’s not chasing universal approval anymore. He’s chasing peace.
“I’m tired of being a punching bag,” he says. Translation: you don’t get to make him the villain of your narrative for sport.
Camp lewks, but make it healing
In the midst of all that heavy stuff, Colton’s also leaning into a lighter reinvention — fashion. The jock who once lived in shorts and tees is now getting styled for the castle, aiming for “campy, fun, funny, and self-aware.” Would he normally wear a bedazzled cardigan with button clips? No. But for Alan Cumming’s gothic game of betrayal? He’s going all in.
And that’s kind of the point: The Traitors is letting him be more than the worst moments of his past. It’s giving him room to be competitive, silly, stylish, and yes, still imperfect — but not disposable.

For the LGBTQ+ community, the takeaway is sharp: coming out doesn’t mean you owe the world endless punishment. Growth shouldn’t be treated like a punchline. And if someone tries to turn your survival into a “gotcha,” you’re allowed to stand up, speak up, and keep playing anyway.
The Traitors season 4 is streaming on Peacock.