Do you know how hard it is to be a christian girl in the days of the Duke of Hastings? It’s like being a catholic in Palestine. Or a non-weed smoker in Amsterdam.
He is the reason why some of us are not getting healed even after elders have come with tanks of anointing oil and laid their sanitized hands on our coconut-oiled twist-outs? Even after the said elders with their silver beards and safari boots have erased all the grease from our hairs and tangled it afresh, requiring us to buy a wider-toothed comb and more conditioner to detangle the prayer knots, they leave us with our infirmities and go away shaking their heads. Do you want to know why? It’s the Duke of Hastings.
I will quote you a whole scripture.
“And the prayer offered in faith will restore the one who is sick. The Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. Therefore, confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man has great power to prevail.”
Yes, I quoted two whole verses because I just want to make you feel a little sinful so that I can feel good about myself by highlighting this part: Therefore, confess your sins to each other …
Weh, I remembered that verse when I watched Bridgerton a few weeks ago. I know the number of you that are roasting silently after getting their body temperatures raised by The Duke of Hastings is higher than Covid infections in Italy. And you have not confessed the murderous thoughts you inhabit against Daphne, she who got to be the spoon. The kind of feels that series gives you require a whole tank of anointing oil, re-baptism in River Jordan and a full confession to the pope – even if you’re not catholic. I’m still fanning myself.
The story is amazing, and I feel for the women whose only goal in life is supposed to be to get married and have kids. I felt deeply for Eloise, an ambitious writer who hates the system and want to ‘live precariously’ with her beloved art but can’t. It’s frustrating, being stuck at an age that you can’t be anything or do anything apart from being chosen wife. And the choosing is an extreme sport in itself.
But the Duke of Hastings had me re-evaluating my life choices and replaying my honeymoon night, to see if the Duke of my house said, “This will hurt a moment.” I don’t remember that bit, but then again, I have mommy brain courtesy of two babies. I was told you lose a third of your brain every time you get a child; I have been operating on a third a brain since 2014 and I’m still writing things that people find interesting. Imagine if I was even on 75% brain function? I’d have won a Pulitzer by now! Don’t take my word for it.
But even the remaining 1/3 of my brain has been blurred by the Duke of Hastings. I’m walking around feeling like a mirror in a steam room. Every time he raised his eyebrow, I got palpitations. Shonda Rhimes planned to trigger buttons with this one and judging by the thirst reports I have been reading on the streets, she took the cup home! Oh, to be a Christian in the times of the Duke of Hastings …
You remember that time when dear Paul of Tarsus was having a mid-life crisis moment and he was doing the things he didn’t want to do and not doing the things he knew he was supposed to do? That was me with Bridgerton. But the tragedy of being an artist is you know a good story when you see it, and a good storyline with excellent casting and unexpected twists is unputdownable (Note to the reader: This word is not in the dictionary, don’t look it up). And when that story is spiced with a hot sauce like Regé-Jean Page, a camel going through the eye of a needle seems easier than choosing to give it a thumbs down on Netflix.
We are not of the world, but we’re in the world and these are some of the struggles we have to go through before Peter opens the pearly gates eventually. In between, we have moments when will probably wish we were a spoon. Those who know, know. Bridgerton has had me singing with Nicole Mullen:
I need a brainwash, from head to my Soul,
I need a brainwash, bring it down to my soul,
I need a brainwash, in-and-out cause you know,
I need a B.R.A.I.N double wash!
Or maybe I don’t, it was a very nice story.