Why Mr. Darcy doesn’t exist

I read Pride and Prejudice a while back and I really didn’t love it as much as I was expecting to. The book is fantastic literature and Jane Austen is a very eloquent writer, but what Mr. Darcy has become outside the book bothers me and I cringed every time he was in a scene. Is there something wrong with me? Maybe. But I hate that all girls strive to marry Colin Firth’s character and won’t settle for anything less. If you have your heart set on finding that perfect man, you have to remember that of all the Bennet sisters, Mr. Darcy married Elizabeth. Maybe we’re not all meant to become Elizabeths because we don’t have her personality and confidence, but that doesn’t mean the other ones weren’t worthy of their own Mr. Darcy. All the sisters are very different and each of them is wonderful in their own way. Except Lydia. Whatever you do, do not become a Lydia. We live in a world of them. These girls are the ones who have become easy to get and throw themselves at guys, and I know too many of them. I really feel sorry for the girls because they’re viewed as fake and easy; usually even by the guys who are giving them attention. It’s funny to joke about haha, I don’t have a boyfriend, but when you become fixated on nothing but getting married and being distraught that no one proposed the second you graduated from high school, then that’s where we have a problem. I also secretly envy the Lydias. My flirting skills involve me awkwardly staring at guys and there might be some drool involved and I’m definitely rocking the vacant expressions.

I’m also guilty of looking for my Mr. Darcy in a way. While I’m definitely not interested in finding a husband or boyfriend right now, I sometimes get upset I don’t have more friends. I try to find my Mr. Darcy in friends and I fail miserably. I have this ideal vision of whom I want as friends and then I get sad when I don’t have them. I have a few very close girl friends, but as for guys, the only boy that I consider a friend also doubles as the only guy who has talked to me more than ten or fifteen times the entire time I’ve been in high school. It’s incredibly frustrating because the only time he’ll talk to me is when he’s not around the popular girls and guys. He’ll text me and occasionally email, but seriously won’t even acknowledge me around his friends. He’s also the guy who doesn’t want to go to college and told me just wants to party. Obviously, I don’t see us being friends once I leave for college next fall since we both have… different expectations from life… but when he actually pretends I exist, he’s extremely nice and has no idea how much I appreciate it. At the same time, it’s so hard looking at him and his friends and thinking why will they talk to the fake girls but not me? And what do the other girls have that I don’t? What I’ve realized is the people that I want to be friends with are actually people who would make me miserable. At one point I was one of the more popular kids (or at least was friends with the more popular kids), but the friends I drifted away from stayed popular and had competitions with other girls to see who could lose more weight while I left to go start a blog and an impressive collection of Converses. I used to beat myself up wishing that I was still close to those people, but I know that what they’ve become is nothing I want to surround myself with. The friends I do have are fantastic. They might not be the ones who always have Friday night plans, but they make me laugh, are always just as excited to talk about Downton Abbey as I am, and I absolutely love them all. The one guy friend I have is with his party friends (who used to be my friends) who are right for him, and I’m with the people who are right for me. Thankfully the college I’m going to has 3000 guys in it so I’ll realize that hey, there’s actually more than one boy my age who will talk to me. Whatever. People are seriously missing out right now. When I become super famous with my blog, my old friends will be crawling back to me. Then I’ll have to be like wait, why aren’t we friends? Oh yeah, it’s because you left me for the more “fun” people. Whoops, you made a dumb mistake. And then I’ll kick them in the shins and run away. Sounds like a plan to me.

You also make your own El Guapo. In perspective, my El Guapos aren’t bad at all. They leave me alone and I just occasionally have to deal with the evil eyes from distant acquaintances and their parents who don’t like me, and the guy who used to call me fat and apparently said horrible things about me to the point of his dad calling my dad to arrange a formal apology from the guy. I never found out exactly what he said, but he weighs 125 pounds and he’s 18 years old. I could squash him in a heartbeat. Ha. But other than that, some of the people I think hate me really just aren’t that interested in me. I pretty much always think that everyone’s out to get me… and this post is basically just a pep talk for myself. As someone once asked me, “Do you seriously think you’re that special that people are constantly talking about you?” And no, I’m not. I hate when people say smart stuff like that. Your enemies are what you make of them and chances are they don’t hate you, they just don’t view you as worth their time, so they avoid you. Or they’re secretly plotting your demise. I’ve heard it both ways.

In the end, there’s no Mr. Darcy to wait for because he doesn’t exist. You have to create him. Mr. Darcy wasn’t Mr. Darcy (Can I say Mr. Darcy more in this post?) at the beginning of the book. In fact, Elizabeth hated him, remember? And he wasn’t too fond of her either. So, what happened? Why did they fall in love and get married and live happily ever after? They changed their idea of perfection and stopped becoming prideful and prejudice (uh, hence the name). Don’t waste your life waiting for a drop-dead gorgeous hunk to fall at your feet singing your praises. That’s never going to happen. I’m definitely not saying lower your standards, but we have to accept the fact that maybe some of us aren’t meant to marry that Italian doctor or Christian Bale (WHY, CHRISTIAN. WHY?!) or be best friends with the popular skinny blonde girl. Your Mr. Darcy is what you make of him. So ladies, stop obsessing over finding the perfect person. If you don’t have a “best friend” or don’t get married for a while, don’t freak out. Strive to become so amazing that people are excited just to be in the same room as you. Do not settle for less than what you deserve, go out of your comfort zone to talk to people (because Prince Charming isn’t going to marry you if you won’t talk to him), and by all means educate yourself as much as possible. Remember that Elizabeth wasn’t stupid and, well, Lydia was. If college isn’t for you, at least read until your brain explodes and surround yourself with educated people. But if you don’t want to, then you need to wake up and smell the Dr. Pepper and realize that you’re actually looking for a Mr. Wickham, and I pity you. And gentlemen, please start wearing bow ties. Those things are cool.

I really need to learn to start talking more around other people so I don’t write the Great American Blog Post every time I have something to say. Sorry.

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15 thoughts on “Why Mr. Darcy doesn’t exist

    • I don’t know where I would be without homeschooling. Sure, I would have loved (?) to go to “regular school,” but if I hadn’t been homeschooled and forced to be with a group of people similar enough to me, I probably would have been the loner. My lack of a social life has given me social skills. Or something.

      Your post is absolutely amazing. What you said was much more concise than what I said ;) I talk a lot for an introvert. I’m introverted on the inside…? Hmmm.

      • Heh. It’s so fun to have friends who don’t understand your sense of humor and look at you blankly when you tell them a hilarious story. And by fun I mean embarrassing.

        Thank you so much for reading! That means a lot, especially because I like your blog probably more than someone who doesn’t actually know you in real life should. I’m not creepy, I promise. I just like to read about people, especially funny people.

  1. I like your plan it sounds great. I might have to steal it if I ever get successful (which is unlikely). I don’t get why so many girls want perfection because its impossible. To be honest I think you aren’t friends with those people because you are not their idea of perfection or “the norm”- but who wants to be normal, it’s boring. Nice blog :)

  2. You’re simply delightful and I look forward to each and every post you devise. Good luck in school and I’m sure you are going to be an amazing nurse.

    Amy Hannigan R.N.

  3. A few pointers….

    1. You are a superb writer, far beyond your years, funny, smart & way more concise than you give yourself credit for (almost unheard of in teenage America, I’d say as a Brit :P)

    2. Contrary to your popular belief I really am convinced you will be way hotter than Stacey’s mom & eventually (with the right people around you) have way more going on, trust me

    3. Praise the Lord that Mr. Darcy doesn’t really exist, because as 2013 rapidly approaches it’s really weird to introduce your boyfriend to people when he’s wearing jodhpur trousers & a ruffled shirt (then throw tousled, over moussed hair in to the mix) truly a recipe for disaster

    4. You will meet, at some stage, the jodhpurless (is that a word?) ruffled shirtless guy, even if you have to shift continents,again, trust me on that one. He won’t be perfect but he will be perfect for you & you him. He may take some time to come across but he is out there, don’t settle for anything less (remember you are competing with Stacey’s Mom at this stage)

    5. Have a wonderful and exciting New Year you most talented & special beautiful girl

    PS now imagining the ‘wear sunscreen’ backing track so my final advice, especially if you move a little too close to the equator like I did “wear sunscreen” – trust me (yet again) on that one ;)

    • This might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I think I’ve reread your comment ten times already and I’m considering printing it out and framing it… Thank you so much. If anything ever happens to my parents, I want them to make you my legal guardian ;) Come on, having an adopted British mom and living in India? How cool would that be?

  4. Wow… This was an incredible post. :) I can relate a lot, at least in the aspect that every friend I’ve made always ends up leaving. Actually, I can count one or two I’ve had for about five years, but not much longer than that. Eventually, they all just…go. I’m not sure why, and yeah, I blame myself, but I think I finally realized that it’s not my fault or their fault, but our directions in life just change, and it’s okay. It’s painful at first, but eventually we meet someone else who’s a great friend, and we get over it. Or we just learn that friends aren’t the most important thing in the world. That’s where writing really helps me. It’s a creative outlet for me, and helps me get over things.

    And I totally agree with you about Lydia. I can’t stand that girl. Honestly, I feel sorry for her, but she’s sooooo immature. Can anyone say annoying? Aargh.

    Anyways, I like your collection of Converse. That’s super impressive.

    -Tia

    • I agree. I always used to blame myself when I lost friends, but I’ve realized it’s really for the best. What originally brought us together wasn’t there anymore and it would really be a useless friendship. But hey, we’ve been blog friends for like a year and a half now. Just 3 more years and we can surpass the 5 year mark.

      I can say it: Annoying.

      Although I’m kind of sold on Vans now. They are much more comfortable… NO, I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SAYING THAT. TIAAAAAAA…

  5. I concur yo. This post is super super awesome. The whole time I was like, “PICCO IS LAYING DOWN THE LAW! OW OW!” Hahah :)

    I have more to say on the topic, but you already got that in a super long text ;) Just to add, even if you are/were a Lydia, you can still change to an Elizabeth. I know from experience. Also, sometimes you have to be “friends” with a few bad apples to realize who your true friends are–or at least who is not a good friend to you–and decided which one you want to be.

    *HUGS*

  6. I married a Mr. Darcy the first time round and it was a disaster of a marriage – damaged me so much that I didn’t date for 11 years after that. When I did start dating again, I found a sweet, shy, quiet kind of guy who treats me like gold and has the same life plan as I do. Ditch the Mr. Darcys of the world and find the nice guy. He is much easier to live with. As for the popular kids…I was one of the shy kids with the weird friends in high school. The popular kids didn’t even expend the energy to look at me, much less talk to me. That was actually better than when I was in elementary school where I got the crap kicked out of me more than once for being the shy kinda different kid. I want to tell you about 2 of those popular kids. Let’s call the first one Hilda (her real name was much cooler than this). I grew up in her shadow all through elementary school and high school. Whenever she did speak to me it was with disdain. Fast forward years later – I was graduating from university and wanted to get new shoes to wear at the ceremony. I went to the local department store and guess who was there to serve me. Hilda! After high school she had never gone to college. This was the girl everyone thought was going to be a doctor. Now, I don’t think that selling shoes is anything to be ashamed of, but here she was, forced to talk to me, be polite to me and help me try on shoes. What a switch! The second one I will call Brutus (again, not his real name). He was the captain of the football team and quite literally didn’t know that I existed even though we had several classes together. We ran into each other much later in life. He owned a small use textbook company and I was the person through whom all the textbooks and library books were purchased for a large high school. Literally 10s of thousands of dollars crossed my corporate credit card bill each year. He and I started chatting one day and realized that we had gone to the same high school. His comment about high school? “High school was great but everything has been downhill since then.” Moral of the story? Marry the nice guy, don’t peak to soon, and go listen to Bruce Springsteen sing Glory Days.

  7. This post made my day.
    It’s the first time that I find myself relating to a post on so many levels, it’s like you took the words right out of my mind and made them real. It’s hard for me to express what I’m thinking while making sense, or as my friend once told me “put words into word places”. So thank you, for showing me that what I’m feeling is actually normal, and you did that so eloquently.
    I really do wish you all the happiness in your future.

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