The Girls Got Guts: The Fabulous Friendship Lessons of Bridget & Samantha Jones

Amba Tilney on 10 March 2025

‘Do you think I am a Gen Z Bridget Jones?’  

Lillie took a long sip of the £5 Malbec that we picked up from her local corner shop in a desperate attempt to keep us warm in her single-glazed bay-windowed Edinburgh flat.

Layered in pyjamas, dressing gowns, blankets and snap hand-warmers down our bras, wine glasses in hand, I felt an urge to look around the room for a camera crew and a director ready to yell ‘CUT!’.   

‘Oh, where has this come from?’ I asked, crossing my legs on the cream sofa. ‘I guess this could be a scene from the new Bridget movie though. Cue Leo Woodall!’ I laughed, leaning my head against the back of the sofa. 

It was clear to me that someone, probably an aunt or a cousin, had asked Lils the inescapable, ‘How’s the love life?’ question over the winter holidays. I don’t know why young women thriving in their singledom requires an analysis but that’s just how things are.

 I too had been subjected to the seemingly incessant probing about when I would bring someone to family game nights, where we played The Traitors until ‘banishments’ became a little too personal. 

It’s funny, as Lils was being crowned Bridget in Edinburgh, I was sipping cosmopolitans in London like a true Samantha. 

Now here we were. Two best friends, the Jones Sisters. 

There was something about this unintentional singleton sisterhood that made me feel empowered. Yes, I did think about how many couples are categorised into their silver-screen compatibility doppelgangers on an average night out. But, I will admit, I’ve never felt more at peace in my singledom than when I allowed myself to sink into the role of a Jones sister, half-Bridget and half-Samantha.

I feel like so often, when we make ourselves cringe or if someone has been single for a while, the default pop culture reference we reach for is, ‘You’re such a Bridget Jones’. 

Let me tell you why this is the highest compliment you could possibly receive.

Bridget Jones is everywoman and everyone! Embodying the unapologetic awkwardness in the pursuit of happiness in everyday life is something to be admired, especially in a world that continuously craves the image of perfection. 

She represents the versions of us that we suppress because we feel like society has imposed on us an expectation to have it all together – the career, the perfect place to live, the friendships, the self-belief and the kick-you-in-the-stomach-romance. Sometimes, I think we get so carried away with the idealised image of ourselves that we expect that we forget to just be.

Being unapologetically herself is a key component of Bridget’s charm. 

I can guarantee that almost every person reading this column right now has sat in their room blasting a power ballad through speakers, lip-syncing in your comfiest cotton button-up pyjamas, pretending you’re on the final leg of your world tour serenading the ‘one who got away’ to millions of adoring fans. No? Just me and Bridget? 

There is a reason why Bridget Jones is so beloved by many – because she represents us.

Now, the key to being a Jones sister is security. Like Bridget Jones, I believe Samantha (the other Jones) is the epitome of a secure woman. She knows herself entirely; one of the greatest lessons we can learn from Samantha is that we are whole on our own. I remember watching Sex in The City for the first time, and everything I thought I knew about love was dismantled by the simple line:

‘I love you, but I love me more.’

Samantha Jones, the woman that you are. It felt almost revolutionary to my 20-year-old self, that the love and self-worth you feel when you focus on feeling whole in solitude can help you determine whether a relationship truly serves you or not. I’ve never looked back. 

A friendship forged between Samantha and Bridget would be remarkably iconic. Their morals relating to womanhood, sexuality, and friendships align as they seek to empower these aspects of their lives. Holding loyalty to their friends at the core of their being, the Jones sisters mould their world around platonic relationships, recognising that the love felt through these connections is arguably stronger than fleeting fellas. 

Everything I have come to learn about unconditional love has come from my friendships, especially with my girls. I think that society can really put a lot of pressure on us to find that connection that we see so often in media or read about in great romantic novels and ultimately this leaves us feeling a little lost. A little deflated. Where are they? My soulmate?

Well, as cliché as this sounds, a soulmate isn’t always romantic. My platonic soulmate is my Jones sister. Lillie just has to look at me for a split second and she can see my soul and heart clearer than I see myself in a mirror. I think that’s what love should feel like.

So, my lovely reader, this February, I invite you to join me in redefining the type of love you are seeking. Become a Jones sister, it’s fabulous!

All my love from your favourite column girl, 

Amba x

The Girls Got Guts: The Woman Of It All

Amba Tilney on 12 December 2024

6th November. That morning everything was silent. I don’t remember hearing the birds sing outside my bedroom window. You see, my family home is situated in a very peaceful area, and on a sunny morning like this one, I usually hear the delicate chirps as I open my eyes. 

But not on the 6th of November 2024. I came home for one of the biggest weeks in my career for The Girls Got Guts but that morning my guts were gone, and fear was in its place. 

The presidential race is over, and a convicted felon was deemed more worthy of the position than a woman. I was thinking of my nieces in California, no older than 10 years old. What did this mean womanhood would become for them and all the people in America? 

I have never felt so useless in my life. So powerless. Just watching from across the Atlantic, being a woman became that much harder once again. In many corners of the world right now, the rights of women are being reduced. 

This may be very naïve of me, but my whole life I have thought that ‘humankind’ would only seek progression, protecting basic human rights that we have fought so hard for. But here we are, witnessing a regression like we are living in a dystopian novel.

Seeing heartbroken women on social media offering support to the American population who voted blue, I shared in their pain and anger. 

I thought of every great Greta Gerwig monologue on the struggles of womanhood: Gloria’s from Barbie, Jo and Amy March in Little Women. I remembered how millions of women felt seen by these words — like they were being extracted from our souls. A collective soul.

Suddenly I felt a surge of warmth. The sisterhood of women refusing to stand aside and allow injustice. In everyday life, it’s unspoken, but to hear women in arms, vocalising it, was empowering. 

Being a woman in the 21st century can feel like an impossible task. 

From girlhood to womanhood, this challenge exists and intensifies with time. The feeling of being underestimated, the fear for our lives. Being a woman is a fight. 

Looking back at my girlhood, I learnt what it meant to be a woman early on. 

At 6 years old, I started karate lessons and was the only girl in my class. As a ballerina, I would execute kicks delicately with pointed toes and was promptly told to ‘man up’. 

The young boys found this amusing and began a 4 year-long game of:

‘Whoever hits Amba the hardest and makes her cry, wins!’

But I never let my guard down (literally). I would come home with multiple bruises and a determination that even my mum couldn’t talk me out of.

Image Credit: Amba Tilney

I told her that I wouldn’t give up. From an early age, I felt a duty to other girls, this unspoken sisterhood that I feel so fiercely in womanhood; a duty to help us feel seen and deserving of space. 

So, I went back week after week. Bruises upon bruises showed up on my arms and legs but I never backed down. After the classes, my dad would pick me up and tell me I was the strongest person in that room. I began to feel that deeply.

4 years later, the first black belt was awarded in the school. I walked up to the front of the class, shook my teacher’s hand and claimed the belt, my name embroidered in gold on the black material. However, to me, this belt wasn’t just mine. It was for every girl who was ever told she couldn’t do something or whose fight was underestimated. 

It became a symbol of womanly power. 

Being a woman is to be resilient yet patient, strong yet gentle, powerful yet respectful. Being a woman is to feel wholly. To be ambitious for our futures. Though it feels incredibly hard, the sisterhood felt between like-minded women of all ages is something that can never be taken away. I think that is something extraordinary. 

And oh, how I love being a woman!

As I watched Kamala Harris take to the stage to address the public one last time in her concession speech, I felt my eyes tearing up. I watched her utilise her womanly strength. Urging people to not stop fighting for the causes they believe in.

‘You have power’.

I must have had a physical reaction to this line, as my mum placed her hand on mine. She didn’t need to say a word. Her eyes said enough. Never give up on what you believe in. Never give up on yourself. She squeezed my hand and I squeezed hers back. I’m proud to be a woman. 

Together, we have so much power.

From your favourite column girl, 

Amba x