In the Netflix miniseries The Queen’s Gambit, viewers follow the life of Elizabeth “Beth” Harmon, a fictional chess prodigy whose brilliance on the board is matched only by her inner turmoil.
Based on the novel by Walter Tevis, the show captivated audiences with its mix of glamour, psychological struggle, and the cold precision of competitive chess. At the heart of Beth’s story lies a personal battle—against loneliness, addiction, and unresolved trauma.
The question, then, is not just how Beth mastered chess, but how she overcame the emotional and psychological demons that threatened to derail her life.
Early Trauma and Emotional Disconnection
Beth’s psychological challenges begin in early childhood, most notably with the death of her mother in a car crash. This event doesn’t just render her an orphan; it fractures her sense of stability and belonging. In the orphanage where she’s placed, Beth finds no emotional refuge—only routine, authority, and a daily pill regimen of tranquilizers designed to pacify the children.
The early introduction of substances sets a dangerous precedent. Even before she understands their function, Beth learns to depend on pills for clarity, calm, and eventually control. Meanwhile, her interactions with adults and peers are minimal and emotionally distanced. The lack of nurturing relationships leads Beth to develop a self-reliant but emotionally detached persona. Her early trauma becomes internalized, creating a blueprint for isolation and emotional suppression that haunts her into adulthood.
The Dual Nature of Genius
Beth’s ascent in the chess world is meteoric. From basement games with janitor Mr. Shaibel to international tournaments, her skill seems otherworldly. But genius, especially in youth, can be a double-edged sword. Her prodigious talent becomes both her sanctuary and her prison. Chess offers her a realm of order, predictability, and logic—qualities her real life sorely lacks. Yet her identity becomes so entwined with the game that losing or underperforming feels like personal failure.
This all-or-nothing mindset amplifies Beth’s anxiety. Without the emotional tools to regulate her highs and lows, she turns to alcohol and pills—not only to dull her pain, but to maintain the illusion of control. Her genius isolates her from others, reinforcing the belief that no one truly understands her world, making her more vulnerable to self-sabotage.
The Illusion of Control Through Addiction
Beth’s substance use begins under institutional influence but evolves into voluntary dependency. She believes drugs and alcohol enhance her focus and creativity, especially when visualizing chess positions on her ceiling—an iconic image from the series. But this belief is a distortion. Over time, addiction corrodes her self-esteem and performance. It affects her relationships, sabotages her preparations, and nearly ends her career.
At its core, Beth’s addiction is an attempt to impose order on emotional chaos. Her traumas remain unprocessed, and substances provide a shortcut to suppress them. The pills and alcohol promise clarity and escape, but gradually strip her of both. Her breakdown after the death of her adoptive mother Alma—an already tenuous maternal figure—further accelerates her descent into self-destruction. Beth is left grappling with grief, fame, and pressure, with no support system and diminishing internal strength.
Turning Points and Relationships That Matter
Despite her fierce independence, Beth’s journey out of darkness isn’t a solo one. Several relationships act as turning points in her path to recovery. Jolene, her friend from the orphanage, returns at a crucial time—not just as a reminder of her roots, but as someone who sees Beth beyond the chessboard. Jolene’s presence is grounded and authentic, challenging Beth to confront her emotional vulnerabilities. It’s through Jolene that Beth finally revisits Mr. Shaibel’s basement and reads the letter he left, triggering a moment of humility and gratitude that resets her perspective.
Another key figure is Benny Watts, the cocky chess player who becomes both a rival and a friend. Though their relationship is complex and competitive, Benny helps Beth understand the discipline required for greatness. He pushes her to prepare methodically and challenges her to grow beyond raw talent. The time she spends training with him and his group introduces her to a rare experience: collaborative learning and camaraderie.
These relationships provide the scaffolding Beth never had. They allow her to be seen, not idolized or dissected, offering emotional stability that no amount of victories could supply.
Self-Awareness and Accountability
A turning point in Beth’s arc occurs when she finally confronts the consequences of her actions. Her lowest moments—missed matches, drunken outbursts, and self-imposed isolation—lead her to question the path she’s on. Unlike earlier in the series, where she rationalizes her substance use, Beth begins to accept responsibility. This is not a grand epiphany but a slow, painful realization.
She starts to wean herself off the pills. She chooses sobriety not out of external pressure, but from a growing awareness of what she’s risking. This shift is crucial; recovery is only sustainable when self-driven. The final scenes reflect this transformation. In her match against the Russian champion Borgov, she plays without substances. Her clarity is natural. Her poise is earned. The ceiling visualization returns—but this time, it’s born of her own mental discipline, not pharmaceutical aid.
Redemption Through Mastery, Not Perfection
Beth doesn’t conquer her demons by becoming perfect. Rather, she learns to coexist with her past without letting it define her. By the end of the series, she is still dealing with loss, pressure, and the scars of addiction. But she has also gained resilience. Her final act—wandering the streets of Moscow and playing chess with old men in the park—is symbolic. It’s a return to the roots of her love for the game, stripped of prestige and expectation. It’s play, not performance. Joy, not compulsion.
This moment encapsulates her quiet redemption. Beth has reconnected with herself—not just as a chess player, but as a person. She’s no longer running from her pain or masking it. She has faced her demons, not with dramatic confrontation, but with gradual healing and honest reflection.
Beth Harmon’s journey in The Queen’s Gambit is not simply one of triumph over addiction or rise to chess stardom. It’s the story of a young woman learning how to live with herself—her past, her genius, and her pain. Through supportive relationships, personal accountability, and a rediscovery of purpose, she moves from self-destruction to self-understanding. In a world where brilliance is often romanticized without context, The Queen’s Gambit offers a nuanced portrayal of inner demons—and the quiet, powerful ways they can be overcome.
