5.22.24 In My Carrie Bradshaw Era…

Lately, I have noticed on social media that a lot of women are mentioning what era they are in. Some are in their childless era, single era, divorce era, the list goes on and on. I may be late to this phenomenon. There are days when I am one coffee cup away from losing my shit. So don’t expect me to be able to keep up with all the whims and fancies of society’s trends and demands.

What I have always loved about Carrie Bradshaw (played by Sarah Jessica Parker) from the hit show (SATC) is simply this:

She is a hot mess.

She, like me is a writer. In the early episodes, we all watched how she struggled to launch her career. One of my favorite moments was an episode when she got her credit card bill and threw it in the trash promptly without even opening the envelope. She has a penchant for gorgeous shoes, bags, and anything vintage. Let’s not even begin to discuss her style. And the tulle skirts? Fierce.

She finds herself navigating, particularly as a single woman in and on the reboot show And Just Like That through New York City. We have seen it all, from the beginning, to her meeting Mr. Big, breaking up with Mr. Big, reuniting with Mr. Big, and ultimately marrying him. Tons of meltdowns about Mr. Big in between. The emotionally unavailable Mr. Big. The breadcrumbing Mr. Big. The on and off again Mr. Big. The never too sure about where she stood with him Mr. Big. Then there was the finally he gets his shit together and commits to her Mr. Big. She broke a few hearts, and she also had a few broken hearts herself. And now, she is the widow of Mr. Big. Let’s face it, everyone has had or has a Mr. Big.

I can identify with her drama in her writing. I know what it’s like to say to myself If I get another round of edits, I’m going to lose it. This is it. This is the hill I’m going to die on. Adios amigos. I really wanted to go out eating a piece of chocolate cake in my favorite chair watching a good tv show. But this is it. I tell my mom and dad, they listen and are supportive. After my internal tornado, I listen to my editors and rewrite. When I do rewrite I have spun my work into something amazing. Something breathtaking. Something way better than I thought I could do. It just took someone to kick me in the pants and push me to do my best.

But the show didn’t just center around that.

Carrie surrounded and continues to surround herself with an amazing core group of friends. The all hold vastly different opinions about everything. They cried, fought, and celebrated. They traveled places and came back with the most bizarre stories. They got married and got divorced. They struggled with fertility issues and unexpected pregnancies. They had money issues and changed careers. After all, it was life. I treasure my friends just like her.

So I am embracing my Carrie Bradshaw Era.

I am a hot mess.

Some days I am barely holding on by a thread. And that’s okay. I put one flip flop or Ugg boot in front of the other and I make it work. I have many, many things going on all at once. Sometimes I drop the ball. Sometimes the unexpected occurs. Some days I’m on top of the world. Other days I want to crawl in bed, cry and sleep for three days. Because I am just so damn tired. I can be neurotic. Crazy. I can be a drama queen. Sometimes you need to be a drama queen. That’s all some people will understand. Not all of my personal demons are straightforward. Some are quite murky. I’m figuring them out. I’m learning.

I just recently lost 42 pounds. Some days I’ll have a salad. Some days I have a lobster roll, fries and a chocolate shake from The Knack.

And then there is Whole Foods. My friends from work laugh at me. I am addicted to their roasted chicken. Every Monday, I go there in anticipation of snagging a hot one after work. I get one, hit the hot bar for mac and cheese and broccoli and go. But I have to get there asap because the scarcity of hot chickens that are left after 2 p.m. make you feel like it’s communist Russia all over again. I imagine Stalin standing there, lording over the hot bar station rationing them out. I usually don’t make it in time. But every now and then…I get one! I push my shopping cart into the checkout line with such pride. I made it. I am the queen of the roasted chickens that day. The next morning, I announce to my friend across the hall that I got one! She laughs. I think to myself Carrie Bradshaw would smile. She knows what it’s like to win small victories. All that matters is that Carrie Bradshaw would be proud of me. That’s all that matters, Krissie.

Some days I think I am too emotional. I feel EVERYTHING. Sometimes people are going through trials and I feel sad for them. I don’t know if I’m doing the best I can in terms of being there for them. I feel guilty when I have to ask for grace and support. People gladly chip in and help. But I feel guilty that I couldn’t be superwoman and do it all. I feel like I’m pulling them away from their own responsibilities. However, at times I can be emotionally depleted and there is very little left. I am a teacher. I founded a civil rights group. I wrote a book. I wrote a freaking book. A book that was the most personal journey I have taken. I literally cried while I was writing some of the chapters. My publisher says she loves that I write with so much emotion. She had her husband read my submission. After he finished the manuscript, he told her “Sign her.” And now there are all of the other things that go along with writing a book: promotion, press, and the sequel. I have to forgive myself for that- feeling guilty for asking people for help. Just like Carrie would. She forgave herself for her behavior in certain situations. She tried to see the other person’s perspective. She recognized it, owned it, and moved on. Because that’s all you really can do.

Finally, I am embracing my Carrie Bradshaw obsession with cute shoes, Kate Spade bags, and now tulle skirts. I’ve bought two so far.

Till next time, stay dreadful my friends.