Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (Bridget Jones, #2)

by Helen Fielding

Reminded me of when was fifteen and walking along lonely backstreet into town and man started following me then grabbed my arm. Turned to look at attacker in alarm. At time was v. thin in tight jeans. Also, however, had winged spectacles and brace on teeth. Man took one look at my face and ran off.

Am assured, receptive, responsive woman of substance. My sense of self comes not from other people but from . . . from . . . myself? That can’t be right.

“It’s all right. It’s going to be all right,” I said, staring wildly out of the window to see if there was a psychiatrist passing.