Did Carrie Bradsaw ruin me?...7.12.26

Hey, good people. How's it going?

Happy SundaY!

Today's thought is completely random, but stay with me.

I found myself thinking about Carrie Bradshaw and Tracee Ellis Ross. If you know me, you know Tracee is  in my top five women I admire. She starred in Girlfriends, a show that premiered in 2000, and it's almost always compared to Sex and the City, which debuted in 1998.

Girlfriends gave us Los Angeles.

Sex and the City gave us New York.

And somehow, both gave an entire generation of women a picture of what adulthood could look like.

And if you know me, then you also know that Sex and the City is one of my top five favorite television shows of all time.

There was a season of my life when it was always playing in my house. I could probably still recite entire episodes from memory. Before people had "comfort shows," that was mine.

These days, people spend a lot of time talking about which character they identify with now that they're adults. They point out who was toxic, who was misunderstood, and who deserved better.

For the longest time, I thought I was Carrie.

Now?

I think I've become a little more Miranda.

And Samantha...well, Samantha was always just Samantha. She was shocking, and entertaining. That was her job, and she did it well.

Ironically, the very first episode I ever saw was an episode where Samantha was in PEAK form.

Back when HBO was a channel you had to squint at if you didn't subscribe, I was flipping through channels one day and landed on the black and gray digital screen,  Samantha was wearing a blue dress with the feathers and she was the fire station. I remember wondering, "Why is this woman at a firehouse? Why is she dressed like that? And why is she sliding down a fire pole?"

Of course, the title( Sex)and the City had already captured my very young attention.

Fast forward MANY years, I moved out my parents house and suddenly I could watch whatever I wanted. I started buying the dvds. The seasons were just coming out. I watched that series over and over and over again.

And I don't think I realized how much it was shaping me.

At the time, it felt fresh.

It felt honest.

It felt like women were living full, interesting lives where men an acessory.

 Relationships mattered, sure, but careers mattered. Friendships mattered. Independence mattered.

The women had brunch.

They debriefed life together.

They celebrated each other's wins.

They survived heartbreak.

They laughed.

They fought.

They came back together.

There was an unshakable loyalty between them.

I think somewhere along the way, I quietly decided...

That's what adulthood looked like.

Not necessarily the smoking.

Not Carrie avoiding her bills because she'd rather buy shoes.

Not the clubbing.

Definitely not some of the relationship choices.

But the freedom.

The independence.

The creativity.

The idea that a woman could build a beautiful life first and let love fit into it instead of building her entire identity around finding it. ( See how Carrie got booted out of my favorite)

And lately I've realized something.

Maybe not everyone grew up with that picture.

Maybe other people were shown something completely different.

Maybe that's why we all arrive at adulthood with such different expectations about marriage, family, careers, and relationships.

It seems obvious when you say it out loud, but it really made me stop and think.

Where did my principles come from?

Who handed them to me?

What stories shaped them?

Because whether we realize it or not, television, books, movies, churches, parents, teachers, and culture all shapes us.

Opinions evolve.

Priorities shift.

Things you once swore you'd never want suddenly become things you can't imagine living without.

But there are still pieces of Carrie Bradshaw that live somewhere in my thinking. I'm fine with that! 

Until...

I started thinking about Carrie and Big.

He told her more than once who he was.

She wasn't ready to let go of the idea she wanted in her head. 

He didn't want the same things.

He pulled away.

And yet she believed, somehow, that if she just loved him long enough, waited long enough, stayed long enough...it would work.

Eventually, it did.

But at what cost?

Did she sacrifice dreams she never got to visit?

Did she trade years she couldn't get back?

And then, after all of that...

They finally get together 

AND HE DIES?!

What in the world? Clearly, I'm still not over that storyline.

But maybe that's the point.

So here's my question for you.

What stories have shaped who you are?

What television shows?

What books?

What people?

I'd really love to hear your thoughts.

Let's have the conversation.

And as always...

Don't be shy. Let's be social.

-A