I didn’t want to see a sad Bridget Jones.

I wasn’t ready to watch my fave frazzled fictional friend become a grieving widow with two kids and a stack of unopened sympathy cards, which is where she’s at when Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy—now streaming on Peacock—opens.

Despite all her diary confessions and dating disasters, she’s always been the queen of endearing (and enduring) optimism, and I was happy when she finally rode off into the sunset with her dream man, Mark Darcy, after she had his baby at 43 in the last movie, Bridget Jones’ Baby, almost a decade ago.

So, for her new chapter, I was prepared for some laughs, some clashes between the spouses, and a lot of crazed-mom hijinks. Not tears. Not loss.

But like so much Bridget has done, she surprised me in the new movie and won me over. This new flick is no pity party. It’s a painfully honest look at midlife loss, resilience, and, yes, dating again when your heart’s been broken.

And that’s why it matters.

Still Awkward. Still Grieving. Still Ours.

Because whether you’ve lost a husband, a career, a version of yourself, or just your habit of caring what people think—this Bridget is still for you. She’s older, yes, and her grief is ever-present. But so is her trademark ditziness, irreverence, and painfully relatable missteps. Bridget has stayed the vulnerable but sweet hot mess we’ve loved all these years.

I came for the comedy and stayed for the intense, real emotions.

No Fast-Forwarding Through the Grief

The film opens four years after Mark’s death, a smart move that sidesteps the usual rom-com whiplash of loss-to-romance in 10 minutes or less. As if! Bridget is floundering, but in quieter, deeper ways, and it’s not all about finding the next guy. She’s raising two children on her own, one of whom is navigating the kind of invisible trauma most films skip over.

I found myself nodding along. After my own divorce, I spent 12 years single, raising a son on the autism spectrum, taking care of my ailing mother, and trying to hold together some version of a life. I didn’t need another “bounce-back” love story. I needed to see a woman who stays knocked down for a while before she pulls herself up again.

And that’s our Bridget, winningly played as always by Renée Zellweger, who was the subject of a controversy over her supposedly extreme plastic surgery a couple of years ago, and like Bridget, has come out on top.

But while Bridget has traded lonely nights for chaos and kids—while still sporting those iconic red pjs—she’s been ignoring herself. She finally picks up her diary and begins to find her way back to the world after help comes from three different—but equally important—sources.

Three Unexpected Sources of Strength

First there’s her father, her greatest champion, who recently passed away. He taught her to hold out for a man who truly got her, and she did. In the new film, she flashes back to one of her last talks with him, when he exhorted her to truly live, not just survive, a message that echoes throughout the movie.

Then there’s her stern but wise gynecologist played by Emma Thompson, who we met in the previous movie. She’s become Bridget’s virtual therapist, urging her to “adjust her own oxygen mask first” before those of her children and telling her she needs to get back to work. (An aside: Could there be a sub-specialty of gynecologists who are also psychologists or life coaches? I’d book an appointment with one.)

Finally, she’s got her tribe, the old friends who’ve always been there for her, and a few new ones she’s met along the way. Sometimes, you just need a girlfriend to set up your Tinder profile for you.

The charismatic cad Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant), is also around, still wearing that flirty grin that always brought a smile to her face. In a lesser movie, they would fall into bed together and he would be tamed, but he hasn’t stopped dating 20-something models. Instead, he’s become her go-to babysitter, teaching her kids to make cocktails.

Love, Loss, and the Men Who Don’t Save Her

We always expect fun in a Bridget Jones movie, and when a 29-year-old boy toy enters her life, it is fun. But the audience—and Bridget—knows he’s a detour, not a destination. She knows that anyone who seems too good to be true usually is—a lesson she learned years ago with Daniel.

Then we meet her son’s nerdy science teacher, Mr. Walliker (Chiwetel Ejiofor), who masks his shyness with an abrasive, drill sergeant persona at first. While he’s not exactly her dream guy, when she realizes he’s seriously concerned about helping her son heal from the loss of his father, she starts to fall for him. I could relate: Nothing is more alluring than a man who cares about your children, especially if they have issues.

Mussed. Brave. Unfinished. And Moving Forward Anyway.

What’s so comforting about this chapter? Bridget’s life shows it’s possible to get older, grieve deeply, and move forward—not by erasing the past, but carrying it with you, no matter how messy it gets. It wasn’t surprising to learn that Helen Fielding, who wrote the novels and co-wrote the screenplays, lost her own partner and the father of her children a few years ago. In an interview with Variety, she described grief as “going through muddy puddles. You go dark, and then you come out, and then you go in and you come out.”

Bridget still falls on her butt. She still gets back up. But now, it matters even more. She shows up—mussed, brave, and unfinished.

I’m not looking for a neat happy ending. Mine didn’t come with one. But if Bridget’s still stumbling toward joy, then so am I.

What about you—have you ever had to rebuild without the fairytale ending?