I have finally finished watching Sex and The City and I think it meant so much more this time round. What isn't there to love? There is love, there is men, there is sex and there are the crazy outfits Carrie managed to pull together.
And as silly as it sounds, I feel like I have hope in relationships again. If Carrie had to go through so many wrongs to find one right at age 38, how can I give up now?
The character relate to the most is Miranda. Her pragmatism and her belief that she doesn't really feel is just so, me.
While watching the show, sometimes I wonder how many other women in their late twenties found the lessons useful and if it shaped their lives in any way. Of course, I know that it is a fictional story about a fictional girl who can outrageously afford Birkins on a writer's salary.
I turned 27 earlier this month, and while I like to say that I don't have the faintest idea where I am going, that's not really true, is it? I have a much better idea about who I am and what I want compared to five years ago. I know my strengths and my weaknesses. I learn and I learn and I grow.
I used to be so afraid to grow up because that means I would become one of those mindless drones that worked in a cubicle crunching numbers for the rest of my life. Thank goodness my accounting days are over.
Things will get better, I am a firm believer in that.