A listening ear: Relebogile Mabotja hosts and is the associate producer of Untied, a series in which each episode focuses on one woman’s story of breakup and healing.
Relebogile Mabotja is no stranger to the spotlight. From radio to television, she has built a reputation for her sharp intellect, commanding presence and the gift of making the most delicate conversations feel like home.
But in her latest Showmax series, Untied, in which she is host and associate producer, she shifts the spotlight off herself and onto the experiences of women navigating the messy terrain of separation, heartbreak and healing. The result is raw, riveting and deeply human.
The show features Beverly Steyn, Nonku Williams, Dawn Thandeka King, Mona Monyane, Palesa Madisakwane, Zandi Nhlapo and Sonia Booth.
We meet through a video call. It’s one of those afternoon meetings that feel more like a catch-up with a cousin than a formal interview.
Before we dive into the depths of the show, I have to get this out of the way: the outfits in Untied? Absolutely breathtaking. “Oh, thank you,” she beams. “I wish I could take credit, but there’s an amazing stylist behind that. They made sure everything was perfect.”
But what Untied gets right beyond the aesthetics is its unwavering emotional honesty. It’s not just another heartbreak show. It’s a tribute to resilience. Each episode gives space to one woman’s story of love lost, relationships redefined and the quiet courage it takes to begin again. At the centre of it all is Mabotja, a host who doesn’t posture or pry but gently holds space.
“What draws you to these kinds of stories?” I ask. Her answer is simple: curiosity. “I’m drawn to human experiences. I’ve always been curious about what we go through as people, and love and loss are something we can all relate to.”
She didn’t think she’d be chosen to host the show.
“I pitched for it and didn’t get it,” she laughs. “When they called me, I said, ‘Are you sure? I thought someone who’d gone through what some of these ladies have been through would be more relatable.’ But they were clear. They wanted me. And once it started, I understood why. It was meant to be.”
For Mabotja, this moment aligns with a deeper calling. “I was already intentional about being the go-to person for sensitive conversations. I don’t think of myself as someone who only facilitates divorce stories. I’m drawn to vulnerable, complex stories, ones that ask us to show up fully.”
Watching Untied, you feel the safety in the room. These women, many of whom are telling their stories on camera for the first time, offer their truths freely. I ask how she manages to create such trust. Her answer feels less like technique and more like an ethic of care.
“I ask myself, how would I want someone to ask me a difficult question?” she says. “Some therapists have told me, ‘You’re in your therapy era,’” she chuckles. “But really, I’ve always believed in talk therapy and the power of different kinds of healing. I try to create a judgment-free zone, a space with a listening ear that comes in without assumptions.”
Some of the guests she knows. Many she doesn’t. But she approaches each conversation with radical openness. “If I’m not careful, my own biases could steer the conversation in a direction that’s not true to them. So I have to stay open.”
One episode in particular stayed with her long after the cameras stopped rolling. It hasn’t aired yet, but it involves the death of a child.
“That one touched me in ways I can’t explain,” she says.
“As a parent, you become more sensitive to certain topics. You hear people say, ‘When a mother loses a child, every mother grieves with her.’ And it’s true. Even when I knew beforehand what the episode was about, I could never prepare myself emotionally. You don’t get desensitised to that kind of pain.”
There’s a depth of emotional labour involved in work like this. But Mabotja doesn’t rely on scripts or autopilot. She prepares in a deeply personal way. “The team gives me a brief based on the pre-interviews, but before I sit down, I disconnect from everything else in my life. I have to fully arrive. I don’t work with a script, I rely on active listening. That’s how I stay present.”
In a world of hot takes and hyper-reactions, Untied is refreshingly unhurried. It doesn’t weaponise pain for ratings. It listens. Mabotja was determined to keep it that way. “I told myself from the beginning: I’m not going to cry for the sake of crying or become someone I’m not. I’ve never been a sensationalist. It doesn’t interest me and it doesn’t align with who I am.”
That refusal to perform pain or exploit it for entertainment is what gives Untied its emotional credibility. “Yes, sometimes I can be funny or spicy,” she says, “but I always try to be authentic. If a viewer feels like they’re eavesdropping on a conversation between friends, then I know I’ve done my job.”
Has the show changed her view on love, separation or healing?
She says: “What it’s really shown me is how much we can carry as human beings. We are far more resilient than we realise. Some of these women have gone through so much and come out the other side wiser, more grounded, more whole. It’s not just about love or marriage or divorce. It’s about capacity. About growth.”
I ask what it looks like for her, personally, to be “untied” from something emotionally heavy. She pauses. Her answer is layered.
“My dad always says, ‘It’s okay to pause it.’ When something is overwhelming, we want to fix it now. But sometimes, you just need to put it down for a while. Not because it’s not important, but because you need to protect your own capacity.”
She also speaks about changing the narratives we tell ourselves. “You can talk about your past without letting it define you. I’ve had to untie myself from stories like ‘I’m not worthy’ or ‘I’m not good enough.’ Those stories are not the truth, they’re just the stories I told myself once.”
And finally, she says, it’s about updating the tools you use to survive. “There could be a time where someone who operated from scarcity can now be scared of not having money, for example. But when that phase of your life is over, you can’t keep using the same tools. You’ve got to grow with the problem. That’s part of the untying too.”
Our time runs out, but the conversation feels unfinished in the best possible way, like one you’ll return to later, when you need to. That’s what Untied does. It doesn’t wrap things up in a neat bow. It sits with the mess, the grief, the beauty, and the strength that comes with being human.
“I just hope people see themselves in these stories,” Mabotja says, “and realise they’re not alone.”