I've been thinking about Sex and the City a lot lately. I wonder how many people who call themselves fans have considered the true beauty of the show beyond the Dior dresses, Fendi baguettes, and, of course, sex: the writing.
My whole life, I've been drawn to things because of how they are written. I can look past a story I'm not crazy about if it's crafted well. "Rabbit, Run" is a perfect example of this. Hands down, one of my favorite books, but not because of what it's about but rather because how it's written. Updike is undoubtedly one of my literary heroes, but that doesn't mean that I always agree with his content.
Sex and the City defined a generation - mine. And not just because we are searching for the two L's (which in all honesty, is dead on), but because of its preciseness and its need to come full circle.
I watched one of my favorite episodes last night. I Heart NY. You know the one. When Carrie finds out that Mr. Big is leaving New York and they dance to Moon River (and yes, I cried). It seemed even more appropriate because I had dinner with my "Mr. Big" just hours before. It got me thinking about my life and how much I've changed. Sometimes the greatest love affairs are the ones that end. And maybe that's alright.
I used to think that if I wasn't married by 23, the age my mother was married, that something would be wrong. My parents' marriage is the one thing in my life that I've always been sure of, and it only made sense that I followed exactly in their footsteps. It almost worked. My parents met under a tree during undergrad; I met someone at my Southern university. They were engaged shortly after graduating; I tried on rings at Tiffany during my senior year. And then, on a cloudy day in November, it all unraveled rapidly before my very eyes. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. You have the time to yell out, "STOP!" but it doesn't make a difference. It's inevitable.
One of the true significances of Sex and the City is that they're all, until well into the series, single. And in their thirties. And don't need to be defined by marriage. And it wasn't until very recently that I really began to appreciate that.
I used to believe that I was put on this earth to be a carbon copy of my father, to emulate his goodness and to be the kind of person that he is, full of life and kindness and lightheartedness. I still believe that, but for the first time I see it in a new light. My parents are everything to me, and I'm so much like them, but I'm different. I have things that I need to do before committing my life to someone else. I need to write. I need to be published. I need to dance in the rain while waiting for the sunshine. And that's just fine. It will all happen.
I'm comforted by the knowledge that I'm always ready to fall in love. I stand armed. With my heart.
And I'll have you know that I listened to Moon River while typing this and didn't shed a single tear. Looks like someone's growing up.