I’ll be honest: I’m not a huge Jane Austen fan. It’s not that I don’t like her books -- I do. I’m just not one of those memorize all the lines, dress in Regency era gowns kind of people. I’ve read all her books though, and like most people, I have the same few comments: that Mr. Bennett is actually a terrible and neglectful dad, that it helps to be on guard around members of the militia, and that Emma is a spoiled brat who meddles in everyone’s business and didn’t deserve Mr. Knightley.

But one Austen obsession I’ll never understand: Mr. Darcy. The man who launched a thousand ships full of swooning teens, young adults and moms. Girls wonder how they’ll find their Mr. Darcy, how they’ll get him to marry them so that they can live happily ever after with him in Pemberley Hall, watching the plebs get the plague through tiny gold binoculars.

I don’t understand what’s appealing about this man. When did snobbery become an attractive quality? Oh yes, that’s right: when Austen was writing her books, coincidentally the same time people had wooden teeth, bathed only on special occasions, and treated women slightly worse than the family horse.

Darcy spends most of his first proposal to Elizabeth telling her how much time and effort he’s spent trying not to like her. That doesn’t even count as a backhanded compliment: merely an insult. A few months ago I heard about a dating app called The League, which you should definitely look into if you haven’t already, because the people on there are the kind you though didn’t really exist. It’s invite only, and is for people who went to the right colleges and make above a certain pay grade. One of the guys on there wrote that even though he usually dates blondes, “I’m not biased, I swear!” Oh you charmer, you. I think we can all agree that if Darcy were a 21st century gentleman, he would be on that app.

If Darcy were alive today, you wouldn’t want to marry him, you’d find him insufferable. He’d probably spend most of his time telling you about his 401k, his frat-mates from the Ivy League he attended, and his overbearing boss at the Fortune 500 Company he works at.

At first, I thought it was me: that maybe there was some aspect of this character that I was missing. Sure, he repents at the end and saves Elizabeth’s sister from the dastardly Wickham. But to be honest, I don’t see how that makes a love connection. And Elizabeth definitely became far more interested in Darcy after she toured his enormous mansion. (This actually isn’t a coincidence: Austen’s novels are all satire, so she was poking fun at the financial aspirations of most people of the day.)

So when I hear women talking about how, one day, they’ll find their own Mr. Darcy, I can’t relate. Does that mean they spent the first three quarters of their relationship absolutely hating the man they’re now with? Or that at some point, he got down on one knee and told her how much he tried to hate her, but couldn’t?

If you must pick an Austen character in order to hold your man to unrealistically high standards, there is an obvious choice. Instead of choosing the snobby and standoffish Darcy, why not go for someone just as well-read and clever, but considerably nicer: Mr. Henry Tilney, the clergyman from "Northanger Abbey." He likes Catherine, the heroine, despite all her flaws, from the very start. He treats her kindly and respectfully. And he defies his father to be with her. So there’s you hero, ladies. Stop obsessing over Darcy: there’s nothing attractive about a man who tries desperately not to like you. You don’t deserve a Darcy: you deserve a Tilney.