I have watched every episode of Sex and the City, probably more than once. Definitely more than once. Now that I live in a fancy house with a DVR, I can binge-watch many episodes in a row, though I wouldn’t suggest doing it after drinking a couple of mason jars full of red wine, yet, here we are.
I’ve analyzed the characters and tried to figure out with whom I most identified. I think, like most women, I’m a little of all four. I’m a little sassy and sexually liberated like Samantha (and who hasn’t had sex on a moving fire truck), I’m pragmatic and a little cynical like Miranda (and bartenders ARE fun), I’m a little dreamy-eyed when it comes to romance like Charlotte (and dust ruffles really are dumb), and like Carrie, I have fallen in love with a man who just wasn’t ever going to be what I needed him to be. I have done this more than once.
With that in mind, and in the spirit of the show, I can’t help but wonder, am I doomed to keep repeating the same mistakes over and over no matter how much work I think I’ve done on myself? Is this my cosmic fate?
My 12-year old son is reading a book called and the name escapes me now because wine and old age, but it is about a society that at first SOUNDS Utopian, but the more the book is read the more it is revealed to actually be a dystopian society. One of the key points in the book is that everything is very regulated and true love is not felt. People are matched with partners for marriage and everyone must take a pill to keep from experiencing love. My son recently asked me if I would choose to take a pill like that. I said absolutely not because sure it numbs the pain, but it numbs the other stuff too. the good stuff, and no amount of leaping into what turns out to be a giant pool void of water overshadows the good stuff. The good stuff is SO GOOD. Of course, I even more recently joked with my mom who knew my answer to my son that I would like to change my answer.
I am self-aware, almost to a fault. I have gone to therapy, I have read books, I have read blog posts, I am all about claiming my baggage, sitting down to dinner with my feelings, taking a dip in lake Amy (that’s me), and working on my part in any situation, learning, and moving on. I’m cute, I’m hilarious, I am good enough, I am smart enough, and gosh darnit, people like me. I have an open mind, I’m not bitter, I go all in, I love big and that is probably part of my issue. I have been known to leap before looking. More than once. And dammit if that doesn’t hurt like hell.
I have no idea what the future holds, but I won’t stop leaping, and even though I’ve dated, that is, gone on more than one date with, a total of two people in the several years that I have been divorced from the boys’ dad, I hope the boys see me as a woman who is not bitter and who is pretty awesome and who is at least jumping in. Because the jump is worth the fall, and I don’t want them to ever think it’s not. And MAYBE, I will jump and fall on top of somebody. This got dark. I blame the wine.