Rabbetting On: 'I grew up idolising Bridget Jones but then I got a reality check'

I took this idolisation to the extreme when I applied to Bangor University just because that's where Bridget went.

I read the books (religiously), watched the films (repeatedly), and stuck quotes like “It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces," all over my bedroom wall.

Talk about misery liking company.

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I even (and here in lies its own problem) reviewed the Edge of Reason for my GCSE English exam. (Of course, I got an A*.)

When I was 18, I went off to a party with a packet of cigarettes (it should have been Silk Cut) and a bottle of Chardonnay, thinking I was the absolute business.

And I laughed in my mum's face when she looked me dead in the eye and told me I was "taking this Bridget Jones thing a bit too far."

I thought this was excellent, Bridget could do all of those things (the things you were told you shouldn't do) and still be the object of Hugh Grant's desires.

Cringe alert! I even made my Tinder bio: "A 6ft 1, sexy Bridget Jones" and lauded all the responses of men asking to see my massive knickers.

But then, I had that lightbulb moment, I didn't want to be Bridget Jones anymore, I wanted to be Samantha Jones.

Sex and the City's sauciest cast member, who was unapologetically in charge, proud of her sexuality, and a badass boss at work.

There wasn't space for buffoonery, bad makeup, and hideous dresses in my new world, so I threw away my copy of Men Are From Mars.

As the news broke yesterday that a fourth Bridget Jones film would be heading our way, I felt mixed emotions.

I love a rom-com as much as the next girl, even more so when Colin Firth is involved, but then I thought back to my 18-year-old self and felt a bit sad.

Between her relationship with food and weight to the way she handled herself at work, Bridget Jones isn't exactly the idol I'd want for my future daughter.

From her, I learned it was ok for men to be a bit of an arse or leave you to attend family parties alone, as long as he is fit.

And I still can't believe an entire planet's worth of people believed that Renee Zellweger was "fat."

The franchise glorified spending weeks in bed, only eating ice cream, and even worse, made it normal to weigh yourself every day.

And it made it seem, fine to be imprisoned in a foreign country as long as the man who framed you for drug dealing is fit. Ok, that one might be a bit of a stretch.

But not everything I learned from Bridget was bad. She had a steady group of friends who she invested in and they her.

She taught me the best boys "happen to quite like your wobbly bits" and that bunny ears are a powerful fashion accessory.

I look forward to watching the new film, this time perhaps with a slightly tighter grasp on reality.

No one can deny the irrefutable chokehold this character has on a generation. I mean here I am 10 years later, still writing about Bridget Jones.

(And confidently wearing big knickers.)