NYE + P&P = Reflective AF
It’s become a bit of a tradition for me to spend New Year’s Eve with a bottle of wine and yet another screening of Pride and Prejudice. The result is an emotional cocktail blended with varying ratios of romantic hopefulness and hand-wringing melancholy. So much self-reflection, so little time. Eh, who am I kidding? I’ve got all night.
Often, the fretting takes the shape of wondering if I’m a Charlotte after all, who should stop pining for a Darcy already and settle for a stable if uninspired Mr. Collins. Every now and then, I have a breakthrough moment. Like when I realized that Charlotte got exactly the life she wanted and there’s nothing wrong with that. Or, maybe more accurately, she had her priorities and she stayed true to them. That’s self-aware, not settling.
It’s the notion of settling that gets me in a tizzy. My upbringing includes a mother with mental illness and the heavy mantle of devout Catholicism, laced with Southern manners and requisite fat shaming. In other words, be grateful for what you get and don’t ask for more than you got.
Much of the last decade or so I’ve spent in therapy has helped me emerge from this mindset. I won’t bore you with the specifics, but it’s a montage of learning that having/expressing wants/needs/desires makes for authenticity/vulnerability which leads to connection/love. [Thank you for coming to my TED talk.]
The tricky part is doing all that while holding on to gratitude and not slipping into a state of endless dissatisfaction. [Cue the I will never be/may you always be/you will never be satisfied Hamilton medley.]
I’m not joking when I say this is a daily endeavor. Because I’m more comfortable with intellect than emotion, I can literally spend giant swaths of time weighing, measuring, and reasoning the right balance. Until my therapist gently reminds me that feeling is the whole point and thinking is how I insulate my tender heart from the wants/needs/desires mentioned above.
Anyway.
This year’s aha is that I shouldn’t worry about being Elizabeth or Charlotte. Instead, I should try to be more like Darcy.
Now hear me out.
One of my favorite tweets about P&P is that Darcy is the ultimate hero not because he’s rich and handsome but because he realizes he’s a privileged ass and does the work (quietly) to make things right for the woman he loves. He does the heavy lifting then steps back and hopes for the best.
We love Elizabeth, but it’s Darcy’s arc that’s satisfying, Darcy’s HEA that resonates and actually tracks with my Brene-Brown-themed personal mission statement.
It’s all a bit unorthodox, I know. Aligning my gracious femme self with the stuffy dude. But it’s all there. And so I happily arrive with a new reading of my favorite book/movie and my New Year’s resolution: Do my best*, hope for the best*, and try not to worry so much.
xo
Aurora
*best as defined by a loose interpretation of the word, mediated heavily by the notion of embracing the good enough.
