There’s no doubt Bridget Jones has had a monumental impact on pop culture.

When Bridget Jones’s Diary was published 25 years ago, Helen Fielding’s hapless protagonist won fans all over the world. The 30-something’s diary entries revealed her struggles with men, her weight, work and family, striking a chord with many readers.

Bridget is so well-loved, I was admittedly quite nervous to read the book for the very first time. I wasn’t old enough to catch the first craze for all things Jones, but I had seen the films. From what I could gather, much of the novel’s story was about finding a man and obsessing over your weight, and I wasn’t sure how well this would age.

However, I’m now in my late 20s – not far off Bridget’s age – so maybe I would find a similar resonance in her trials and tribulations?

Unfortunately, this just wasn’t the case. I found parts of the book quite shocking – such as Bridget starting every diary entry with her weight and beating herself up if she had gained the tiniest bit. I was also disappointed with just how much of the book is dedicated to Bridget’s quest for a boyfriend, leaving space for little else.

Of course, there is still a stigma around single women nowadays, but Bridget’s state of mind felt quite alien to me. Maybe my friendship circle is unique, but no one I know has ever set marriage as their sole purpose in life – which is very much how it feels for Bridget, who seems to see perpetual singledom as a fate worse than death.

I’m not saying we’ve magically solved the problem of ticking biological clocks, but I do feel the focus has shifted. Women are celebrated for things in life that aren’t just successful ovaries – like flourishing careers, and positive friendships.

It’s probably worth mentioning society is still geared towards the heteronormative ‘ideal’ of coupledom, but the tides are changing – particularly among young people.

Even friendships seemed surprisingly sidelined in Bridget Jones’s Diary. Her mates felt like bit parts – Bridget only really called them when she was having a crisis in her love life.

The less said on the fact she was pursued by her boss, the better – although that’s not to say it doesn’t happen nowadays. It just felt particularly uncomfortable to read in the post-#MeToo era.

I’m not saying we currently live in a feminist utopia; perhaps it’s just our problems have changed. Social media has hardly helped our self-image – it could be seen as another way of documenting and obsessing over our weight – but thinness is no longer the only metric for success.

That’s not to say I didn’t find humour in the book. Bridget’s mum getting accidentally caught up in a timeshare scam is nothing short of hilarious, and there were moments in Bridget’s life I could relate to – like struggling to find a clean shirt when you’re running late for work, or the minefield that is buying presents for your friends at Christmas.

I don’t want to take Bridget away from anyone, particularly if she resonated with you back in the Nineties, nor am I looking for her to transform into a modern-day body positive icon. I just wonder if Bridget – in all her glory – is best left in 1996.

Nowadays, I feel like we have fictional characters who truly show what it’s like to be a woman or non-binary person – warts and all – in 2021. And who knows, maybe we’ll find these protagonists cringeworthy and problematic in 25 years time. That’s the beauty of fiction – it keeps evolving just as we do.