I remember watching the Sex and the City finale in 2004 with a group of women in our 30s (most of us are married with kids). We drank Cosmos and cheered when Curry ended up with Mr. Big instead of the Russian.
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For many, this was the perfect ending to the series. After years of struggle and struggle as a single woman, Carrie’s intelligence, passion, and perseverance finally paid off. She somehow manages to pull off a miracle by convincing the emotionally absent and isolated businessman Mr. Big to choose her.
It was the proverbial fairy tale happy ending that we all thought Carrie Bradshaw deserved. But what did she win?
How happy can eternal life be with a manipulative narcissist?
While watching SATC on HBO Max, one thing became abundantly clear to me – Mr. Big is an asshole.
For years, he manipulated Carrie and often left her feeling like she was insignificant and divorced. Whenever Carrie is truly happy and authentic—as in her relationship with Aidan—Mr. Big reappears to blow up her life, bringing her back into his conceited, condescending orbit. It’s so toxic, that Carrie only breaks free of her cigarette addiction when Mr. Big isn’t in the picture urging her to be a “bad girl” and inhaling the poison into her lungs.
In a show about women’s obsession with designer shoes and purses, Big often treats pretty little girls as if they’re expensive (and sexy) disposable accessories, mere arm candy, or props. Carrie has a deeper emotional and spiritual connection with Manolo Blahnik than Paige has with his beautiful wife, Natasha, whom he almost immediately cheats on because she fills their house with too much beige.
Carrie, on the other hand, is the anti-Natasha. She has curly hair that is difficult to control and wears clothes of the brightest bright, mismatched colors. Carrie may be full of self-doubt and neurosis, but she’s never been a dull beige.
However, most of the time Mr. Big proves that he prefers generic, empty, and pretty models. Maybe this is because it’s easier to impress these women (depending on the offer) with his money. Models are only attracted to his strength and therefore ignore his inability to engage in honest and intelligent conversation.
Carrie, with all her messy, vibrant complexities, can’t keep Paige’s sole interest for long. Nor can Big maintain the illusion to her that he is anything other than a shallow, inarticulate, insecure man-child and an aging Lothario, whose emotional intelligence he feels is superior to his.
In Sex and the City, Carrie is the only woman in Paige’s life who is not generic and interchangeable. It is known that Mr. Big does not have any friends other than Carrie.
For most of the series, Peg’s inattention and emotional avoidance make Carrie feel crazy, unstable, and insecure, yet she has secure attachments to other people. Carrie has healthy, functional, and mutually satisfying relationships with best friends Miranda, Samantha, Charlotte, and Stanford.
She’s the big one (the real one) who strips Carrie of her positive identity and recasts her as a pathetic woman who needs his dismissive attention to feel valued and validated.
Moreover, so-called commitment issues are convenient (and nonsense). Carrie is right when she says he doesn’t want to commit to her. He pushes her away again and again, and yet, holds her back for years, pretending to be a friend. But true friends don’t ruin their friends’ love lives or undermine their self-esteem.
Mr. Big plays with Carrie because he can, and because he’s an idiot. He takes advantage of her weakness for his own sake and ultimately prevents her from finding true happiness with someone who isn’t stupid.
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This does not mean that this story is not realistic. However, it is not romantic. It should not be considered an example of true love.
And it makes you ask yourself: Why do strong women choose to love assholes?
We all fell in love with the Carrie/Paige relationship because we believe in the age-old principle: opposites attract.
But this isn’t just Beauty and the Beast. Or businessman and artist.
Big and Carrie were the classic narcissistic/empathic pairing.
Empaths seek to rescue the narcissist and change him or her for the better. But the narcissist never changes. In the end, the empathy is generally left spent and empty, and you wonder what you could have done differently to make the narcissist happy.
The short answer? nothing.
Narcissists remain the most ignorant of all human species, resistant to change or accountability.
Why does empathy remain? Because the empath sees the narcissist’s wound and believes that only she can heal it. Plus, giving it to him (and enduring his pain) makes her feel loved.
Under the influence of his charm and charm (and broken promises), she falls in love with smoke and mirrors. She believes this time will be different, even though it is she who has once again adapted to suit him, while he remains steadfast and stubborn – completely undeveloped and unchanging.
I spent three decades with my version of Mr. Big until he dumped me after 25 years of marriage. And I’m only now beginning to see how, like Carrie, I chose to see the best in this man over and over again, despite his inability and unwillingness to grow or mature emotionally, mentally, and spiritually in our marriage.
In the past two years since he left, I’ve done a lot of counseling and deep soul-searching (and grief), while he’s mostly been dating and seeking attention and validation from the outside. And I realized that even though we loved each other and were our best as co-parents, our basic dynamic and attachment styles weren’t functional, healthy, or compatible.
I was attracted to this man because of childhood trauma that left me with an anxious attachment style (and therefore comfortable with an emotionally unavailable man).
I stayed because I loved the life and family we built together (and I’m very loyal). Plus I peeked into his soul and saw his childhood wounds that left him with an avoidant attachment style.
Marriages thrive (so I’m told) through connection, intimacy, honesty, authenticity, integrity, and communication. We were never able to resolve the conflict because he ran away from the confrontation, refusing to remove the mask he was wearing.
I was far from perfect with my many flaws, weaknesses, and bouts of depression. But I faced my demons head-on, determined to heal myself and disrupt the legacy of trauma, rather than pass it on to our children.
Opposites—especially anxious and avoidant partners—often attract and find some comfort and familiarity in their discordant and conflicting relationship patterns.
However, over time, these opposites also repel one another—unless both parties are willing to explore their wounds, their triggers, and their patterns—and try to heal them.
Rewatching Sex and the City, I now cringe, rather than complain, about Carrie’s relationship with Mr. Big.
I complain about her pathetic pursuit of his affections.
I complain about the power imbalance within the relationship, as well as the intermittent blocking and reinforcement that makes her feel unstable and insecure, always seeking his approval.
I cringe when she makes excuses for him to her friends.
I feel embarrassed when he remains emotionally unavailable yet keeps her on the hook by tying her up with shallow promises, cheap flirting, and sexual antics.
I cringe when I see the way she runs away from a simple, stable, loving, honest, and authentic man like Aidan because she is addicted to pursuing a closed-off man who will not only never love her – but will never love himself.
I’m embarrassed because I see so much of myself in the messy, complex, empathetic, passionate writer named Carrie Bradshaw.
I complain because I can’t believe I naively mistook trauma connection for true love.
I’m embarrassed that we keep telling the same toxic fairy tales and positioning them as epic love stories instead of the abysmal tragedies and cautionary tales they are.
For the first time in my life, I’m watching Sex and the City as a single woman, and what shocks me the most is how this show portrays single women as desperate, lonely, incomplete losers.
For the most part, I enjoy being single (and don’t date), and I no longer believe the lie that you’re nothing unless you have someone to share your life with.
I’ve had a partner for over 30 years, but often felt alone in the tough stuff. And honestly, this is the first time in my life that I feel close to being whole and complete and also – happy and fulfilled.
Why? Because I don’t expect anyone else to make me happy. Instead, I chart my path, fulfill my own needs, and pursue my purpose and passion.
Being partnered may not be a guarantee of happiness and success, just as being single does not automatically translate to a life of sadness and failure.
Either way, I hope that in the SATC reboot, a middle-aged Carrie Bradshaw, like many of us, finds herself single again, having been disillusioned and broken by life’s unexpected twists and turns.
Just this time, I hope Carrie isn’t waiting for or chasing an unavailable and unworthy man.
I hope Carrie looks in the mirror and honestly likes what she sees.
