This is an open letter to all the young women. You know, the ones watching old episodes of Sex and the City, dreaming of the day they can move to New York and live in Carrie Bradshaw's world.
I just want to be clear - that world does not exist.
At one point, I was you. Living in my sleepy little suburban town just outside of Boston, watching Sex and the City episodes all day long when I wasn't at work or shopping. And I slowly became obsessed with the idea of switching cities. I thought I was in the wrong one - I thought NYC was for me the way it was for Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha because of the way they lived.
Then I moved here. I moved into the most disgusting 3-bedroom apartment in Queens with two random girls who couldn't speak English. At night, the bugs and rodents came out and I was convinced that this could't be real life. Certainly not Carrie's.
When I moved into a new apartment with a very nice (and gluten free) roommate, I started trying to find Carrie's NYC. Almost every experience pointed to the fact that it wasn't real. At first, I discovered small reasons, like the fact that Bed is closed... apparently for a tragic reason. Coffee Shop is not nearly as cozy and fun as it looks thanks to the rude hosts and hostesses who think they're models (as someone in the industry, I can safely say most are not). Bungalo 8 was actually a good time (before it closed), despite Carrie running out. And Magnolia cupcakes are completely worth the wait if you skip the tourist attraction in The Village.
More importantly, no one has the funds to enjoy night after night out on the town with your girlfriends. Especially not aspiring writers who also have bills to pay (I speak from experience). And sure, there are happy hours to make a girl's night out more affordable, but they're so crowded that sometimes it's just not fun.
And finally, sometimes New York is just not fun - mainly because it forces you to really examine the relationships in your life. You'll go through the ups and downs of boyfriends, fauxlationships, situationships, and just plain bad dates. You'll separate from good friends and then reunite. You'll love your job and then hate it, and maybe love it again. You'll realize you're going through a quarter-life crisis and question everything you've ever done. And you'll resent Carrie for the amazing times she portrayed on the small screen... And then you'll reach a plateau where you'll fall in love with everything again.
As I sit in my bedroom post #HurricaneIrene and watch a rerun of the season finale, I'm thankful. It shows my favorite protagonist walking down the street with You've Got the Love blasting in the background. I can't help but smile knowing that Carrie Bradshaw's New York City doesn't exist, but mine does. And that's pretty great.
I just want to be clear - that world does not exist.
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Then I moved here. I moved into the most disgusting 3-bedroom apartment in Queens with two random girls who couldn't speak English. At night, the bugs and rodents came out and I was convinced that this could't be real life. Certainly not Carrie's.
When I moved into a new apartment with a very nice (and gluten free) roommate, I started trying to find Carrie's NYC. Almost every experience pointed to the fact that it wasn't real. At first, I discovered small reasons, like the fact that Bed is closed... apparently for a tragic reason. Coffee Shop is not nearly as cozy and fun as it looks thanks to the rude hosts and hostesses who think they're models (as someone in the industry, I can safely say most are not). Bungalo 8 was actually a good time (before it closed), despite Carrie running out. And Magnolia cupcakes are completely worth the wait if you skip the tourist attraction in The Village.
More importantly, no one has the funds to enjoy night after night out on the town with your girlfriends. Especially not aspiring writers who also have bills to pay (I speak from experience). And sure, there are happy hours to make a girl's night out more affordable, but they're so crowded that sometimes it's just not fun.
And finally, sometimes New York is just not fun - mainly because it forces you to really examine the relationships in your life. You'll go through the ups and downs of boyfriends, fauxlationships, situationships, and just plain bad dates. You'll separate from good friends and then reunite. You'll love your job and then hate it, and maybe love it again. You'll realize you're going through a quarter-life crisis and question everything you've ever done. And you'll resent Carrie for the amazing times she portrayed on the small screen... And then you'll reach a plateau where you'll fall in love with everything again.
As I sit in my bedroom post #HurricaneIrene and watch a rerun of the season finale, I'm thankful. It shows my favorite protagonist walking down the street with You've Got the Love blasting in the background. I can't help but smile knowing that Carrie Bradshaw's New York City doesn't exist, but mine does. And that's pretty great.
I love this post! It is so true! Sorry to hear about that nightmare of a place...I got a chill just thinking about all of those nighttime friends coming out...eeek!
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