I’ve always fancied Bridget Jones. She’s a total badass, and like any girl, I’d like to think I’d deal with all of her mortifying scenarios as gracefully as she does. (Instead I would probably hide under the covers for ten years, replaying everything in my head).
For Bridget, Mr. Darcy is the one (obviously) and always has been. We know that because the movies tell us so.
But on paper, he’s a complete dick.
Think about it: here is a smart, handsome, sensitive guy who has been in and out of her life over the past ten years but just couldn’t commit [to her]. Any girlfriend of hers would be telling her to get the fuck over him. He married someone else, for God’s sake! But it’s Colin Firth playing a chivalrous British lawyer, so it’s all good.
Look, full disclaimer, I’m a little more attune to this storyline as a girl who has had her own Mr. Darcy in and our of her own life for the past decade.
To every girl out there thinking there’s such a thing as a Mr. Darcy – a soulmate who just hasn’t worked out ‘yet’ – be smart. If he doesn’t scoop you up the moment he sees you wearing an equally ugly Christmas sweater, he’s not the one.