Why I am not Bridget.

It’s been long that I have written something. I am trying to get back to it and learn how to be patient, not get exhausted so quickly and not feel vulnerable all the time. But! It is not about that, I’ve got back to reading again in a longest time and it felt great while doing it. It was all fine untill I finished reading the last word. I finished reading Bridget Jones’s Diary by Helen Fielding few days ago, it is a comical reading and throughout the reading I felt this character belongs to me, this character is me but it ofcourse is a lie. No character can belong to anyone, you can resemble to someone but you can never be someone else; ever. It is opposite to a fairy tale where Bridget is miserable in her 30s constantly dealing with the world’s question of why she doesn’t have a partner. Strangely no one asked her when she is having kids. Her parents are separating when her life is just sad. She is counting on her diet, her drinks, cigarettes she is smoking, thoughts of calling toxic men in her life. I felt more like her when she is falling in the trap of Daniel who she caught red handed with another woman. She lied about dating a younger man to prevent herself from embarassment. She is around people who are married but devastated but still can’t get along with the fact that she is single. She continues to fantasize about men who are shit headed and just want to control her. Since when do I became her? Since when I felt comfortable being her but at the end realised that I am not Bridget. At the end of the book she managed to realise that Mark Darcy is the man she desired but forgot the fact that desirable becomes toxic very soon. Having people you believe is the last thing that I want atleast in my life and that’s what she keeps on doing, thankfully her friends didn’t turn out to be turds that I continue to have. I am able to write today, because I am upset! It’s strange what can get you to do things that you’ve been trying to do for longer. I am definitely proud of Bridget because she was able to write atleast once in a week. I don’t identify as a straight person, I am homosexual but does it prevent me from feeling vulnerable. No! It just added on another layer of miseries to my life. I was ok being in a heterosexual relationship, though always running away with the fact of getting married. I continue to feel that I should be with someone to make me feel good about myself forgetting the fact that such people only mean to use you and do not even care a while later. Unfortunately, it’s not just men who can do that to you, it’s not just a partner who can do this to you. It is anyone you start showing faith on. It can be your family, friends, co workers or even nobody. Imagine a nobody leaving you with scars for life. Bridget was not scard and I am glad she was not but her emotions and behaviour did go to the same direction. Maybe it’s me who do not want to take the book as a comical read because it does trigger bad memories, people I left behind and people I thought would be there for a life time. But ultimately Bridget’s this part of life ended up as a fairy tale that she doesn’t want to accept. I am not Bridget and I can never be Bridget because it ended well for her. It ended in a way, I did not see through it. I expected her to be fierce and feminist. I wanted her to be there for herself when no one is there. I wanted to be in a space where she is not the one feeling left out on a Christmas Eve. But I cannot be her, it is a fantasy and I am living a life which is far beyond a fantasy and cannot be more real than ever. Bridget is a lie for me and that’s what I believe not because I am angry but because it is a truth that shakes me up every single day.