Neurodivergent (Headcanon) Alley: Anthony Bridgerton (Bridgerton)

*Anthony-related spoilers*

Back when Bridgerton first came out, I liked the idea of a racially diverse Regency romance series but quickly lost interest when all the talk was about how “spicy” it was. When it comes to fiction, I’m not sex-repulsed, but my aroace butt has very little interest in that sort of thing, and I didn’t really see the appeal of the show when perfectly non-spicy Jane Austen adaptations were right there. But fast-forward to watching Wicked last November. As I sat in the theater, vibrating with excitement at all the amazing things happening onscreen, I could feel my platonic crush on Jonathan Bailey developing in real time. I knew vaguely that he was on Bridgerton, because I’d seen stuff come across my social media periodically and I recognized him from the excellent Twelfth Doctor story “Time Heist.” After I finished reeling from the wonder of “Defying Gravity” and “Popular” and “Dancing Through Life,” I found myself thinking, “Wait, do I need to watch Bridgerton for this dude?”

Fortunately, it turns out Bridgerton is fun and isn’t just wall-to-wall sex—there’s plenty of romance and yearning and sly humor in there too. I’m not a huge fan, but I do enjoy it, and when I say Anthony is my favorite Bridgerton, it’s only in part because of my bias. And while Anthony isn’t the only character on the show (or in the Bridgerton family!) who reads as neurodivergent to me, my bias is the reason I’m writing about him first. Let’s talk Anthony Bridgerton!

Look, when it comes to ND headcanons, you often hear people argue, “They’re not autistic, they’re traumatized!” It’s true that there’s a lot of overlap between PTSD and autistic traits, and it’s true that plenty of fictional characters—Anthony very definitely included—have all sorts of trauma. But if I may, why not both? So many autistic people in the real world have c-PTSD, so it stands to reason that some of the traumatized characters in fiction are also autistic.

The trauma that has shaped Anthony’s adult life happened when he saw his father die in front of him, very unexpectedly. His father died due to anaphylaxis from a bee sting, something they didn’t even know was possible. In an instant, bewildered and grieving, Anthony inherited his father’s title of viscount, and with it all the responsibilities that entails. His grieving mother was heavily pregnant with his seventh sibling, and when she went into labor shortly afterwards, complications arose. Anthony was told that, if the time came, it would be his duty to decide whether to save his mother or the baby. He experienced a whirlwind of heartbreak and terror in a very short time, and as he watched his mother lose herself within her own sorrow, he decided that he would never fall in love—he never wanted anyone else to experience that kind of pain because of him.

Naturally, being a character in a Regency romance who’s vowed never to fall in love is just asking for trouble, and it’s only a matter of time before Anthony meets Kate, the woman who completely spins him around. But before that happens, Anthony sees marriage purely as another one of his many duties. When he announces his intention to take a wife, what he’s really looking for is a suitable viscountess—and in marriage, as in most things, he sets out to do it as correct as possible. Anthony approaches most of his objectives with a “normal to want and possible to achieve” attitude. He’s going to win at managing his sister Daphne’s suitors in season 1, he’s going to win at croquet and charades, and he’s definitely going to win at marriage.

This manifests itself in strict attention to detail and exacting standards that can’t be deviated from under any circumstances. With Daphne, he at first chases away every potential suitor because he finds fault with all of them. And when Daphne points out that that’s the complete opposite of what they’re going for, his calculations change: he’d thought his duty was to find his sister the perfect husband, but above all, his duty is to actually find her a husband. So he swings to the other end of the pendulum and arranges an engagement with the first respectable gentleman he can get his hands on. Achievement unlocked, Best Viscount/Older Brother Ever? Not quite, because Daphne—understandably—wants a say in her own future and hates the notion of being traded away. In Anthony’s desperation to do right by his duty and his sister, he takes multiple big swings in the wrong directions, missing important considerations because he goes all in on what he thinks is the one correct way to do things.

Likewise, in his own search for a wife/viscountess, Anthony draws up a list of the qualities he needs, refuses to deviate from it, and systematically meets with young ladies one by one, inevitably taking note of how each one doesn’t measure up. And even though his title makes him the most eligible bachelor of the season, his forthrightness doesn’t win him any favors. When he sets his sights on Kate’s younger sister Edwina, the most “correct” choice, Anthony is (mostly) a dutiful and respectful gentleman. But he very specifically does not want to marry for love, and he can’t supply the sort flowery courting that Edwinda is hoping for. On the one occasion where he tries, showing up with one of Benedict’s poems and attempting to pass it off as his own, he abandons it halfway through to make this speech:

“I cannot do this. I cannot claim these words as my own—they are someone else’s entirely. Truth be told, I’m not a man of poetry. Words of flattery are beautiful and sweet, but they are also hollow unless accompanied by action. Miss Edwina, I could stand here and pretend to be someone I am not. I could pretend to want the very same things as you, but I would be lying. I may not be able to…offer the display of passion that you truly deserve. But I assure you that when it comes to action and duty, I shall never be found lacking. And I hope that is what will speak louder than any pretty words ever can.”

With Anthony’s strict adherence to duty and his insistence on the most correct way of doing things, falling in love with Kate throws him for a loop. Given his past trauma and his vow, falling in love with anyone would’ve been distressing for him, but the fact that it’s Kate in particular feels all wrong for him. Edwina is the plan, the goal. She’s the queen’s chosen “diamond of the season.” Kate is the spinster older sister, whose temperament seems ill-suited for a viscountess. What’s more, she loathes Anthony due to some frank remarks she heard him make about marriage, she’s doing her best to thwart his intentions toward Edwina, and she keeps showing him up when he’s trying to win. Kate is the opposite of the plan, and Anthony can’t deal with the fact that he’s falling for her. This makes him even more determined to keep his focus on Edwina, which winds up hurting all three of them.

In a very buttoned-up society that’s concerned about reputation, protocol, and propriety, you’d think Anthony’s fastidious nature would work to his advantage, but instead it makes him stand out. Other characters think he’s too intense, too much, and even young women who are vying for the viscount’s attention are put off by his unvarnished honesty. But personally, these traits endear Anthony to me so much. I’m glad that being with Kate makes him happy and helps him relax a little, but I like that loving her doesn’t turn him into a completely different person. He can be happy and more relaxed without losing the traits that are such a major part of him.