Saying goodbye to Bridget Jones

And hello to a new era

This weekend I went to see the new Bridget Jones and in lots of ways I loved it.

It was Bridget being Bridget and Hugh Grant being deliciously naughty. All the old friend characters are there - as well as a random appearance from Isla Fisher that didn’t really go anywhere.

Bridget is her usual slapstick mess - her boss says she looks hot, but he is referring to hot flushes, she gets stuck up a tree, she sets off the fire alarm making pasta, she shows off her bum to a classroom… She has gorgeous kids now and a gorgeous house….and it was all very comforting, familiar and safe.

But it also felt old.

Bridget must be in her fifties now and yet in many ways she is acting like a girl - still in the same floral dresses, hair in a wonky ponytail, being told what to do by her friends.

The Bridget voiceover was there: ‘Starting today: Will not set things on fire, will responsibly reset passwords not to include the word fuckwit’

‘Will not be frightened of the school mums, in particular, Perfect Nicolette... with her perfect twins’.

I didn’t find it funny or charming. I just thought, ‘Oh Bridget, haven’t you moved on from this?’

I have grown up with Bridget. I was 23 when the first movie came out. I recognised myself in the white wine drinking, calorie counting and the constant self-doubt…

But mostly I recognised her inner narrative of second guessing every decisions she makes, self-deprecating to the point of self-loathing. Seeing this play out in a woman who is now in her fifties made me want to scream: Grow up Bridget! Get over yourself, you have a great life!

But it was me I was screaming at.

I saw how much I have been shaped by Bridget Jones and I didn’t like it.

I have written before about the dangers of being self-deprecating. I have built a whole career around it, not to mention a personality.

In my twenties I got a job in my newspaper and spent days trying out Spanx and dressing up like Joan in MadMen, not unlike Bridget Jones ‘reporting from Sit up Britain.’ My writing revolved me doing stupid stuff and making fun of myself.

It all seemed harmless enough - but it wasn’t.

Unknowingly, I had absorbed the message that a woman can only be visible, successful or liked if they make jokes about their crazy hair or how inadequate they feel underneath it all.

Done long enough, this kind of self-deprecation becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

At 47 I have found myself living down to the version of myself I take the piss out of. I became so identified with my dud bits, and built a whole schtick around them, and the schtick became a life. I’m really tired of it.

Both my books have been compared to Bridget Jones. I have been asked by journalists how I feel about this and I have always said I’m delighted to be compared by a character who is adored by the world. Who the hell wouldn’t want their books to be compared to international best-sellers?

Now I also see a different side.

As I’ve got older it breaks my heart to hear younger friends, in their twenties and thirties, put themselves down. You are shining lights, I want to tell them (and do), don’t ever belittle yourself like this. Please. It’s not right. There’s a life to be lived and enjoyed - please don’t waste your precious life picking holes in yourself.

I regret that I have been part of the culture that made that kind of self-hatred the norm for women.

The other thing I regret is all the years thinking that because I was single, I was a failure. I think that author Helen Fielding was trying to send up that culture that saw all single women as spinsters, but in my mind it solidified it.

In my opening chapter of Love Me! I write about a conversation I have with a friend: ‘I mean even Bridget Jones -’ I started. ‘I mean I love her but if you think about it, it’s telling us that all single women sit around in their pyjamas, drinking wine and crying at weddings. But maybe being a single woman doesn’t have to be anything like that? Maybe,’ I said, sitting up and warming to my theme. ‘Maybe we’ve all embodied the Bridget Jones cliches because that was the only part on offer! There haven’t been any scripts with ‘happy single woman has a great life without getting married!’ But maybe we can write a new script?’

Love Me! was my way of writing a new script, via tantra retreats and building a family with my neighbours.

And so I was disappointed that the new Bridget was still about getting the guy. I’d have loved Bridget to shack up with all her friends, or stay single or have a stable of younger lovers. Could she not have started a commune in her massive Hampstead house? It felt like a missed opportunity.

There were some changes; there was no counting calories in this movie and less drinking - and the scenes about grief were moving - but I want more. For her. For me. For all of us. I want more than frazzled chaos and desperate dating even when that desperate dating ends up with hot sex with a young Leo whatshisface.

Bridget Jones represented so much about being a woman in my era - but we are in a new era now. A new world. And I want new role models.

Right now, toxic tech bros are taking over America. Donald Trump has just allowed rapist and human traffickers Andrew Tate and his brother to relocate to Florida where, apparently Russell Brand has also taken up residence. Women’s rights to abortions are being stripped away.

Most of us spent the Autumn following the horrors of Gisele Pelicot’s court case against the 51 men - 51 - who raped her. In Afghanistan the Taliban are banning from women jobs, banning them from talking to each other and are now banning windows in domestic spaces, to prevent women from being visible outside.

Now is not the time for insecurity or self-doubt, there is work to do.

I want Bridget to grow up and revel in her power, make plans to change the world. Or if not change the world, at least relish the life she is privileged enough to live.

Again, this is me speaking to myself.

I love Bridget, she is part of me but I’m also ready to say goodbye.