2020 Changed Me From a Carrie to a Charlotte

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Abstract

e, but, like my other forays into other characters, I thought that this was just a phase. I still wore my stilettos throughout my pregnancy and, when I got married and bought a house, I rationalized, even Carrie eventually found Mr. Big.It wasn’t until 2020 that I looked around at my daily life and thought, “I’ve been lying to myself. I’m not a Carrie. I’m a Charlotte.” After leaving my full-time job in August and losing most of my other work traveling to the pandemic, I am now a self-employed writer who is a mom and the wife of a busy husband. I realized that all of my Carrie-ness had been whisked away with the new decade.But then, I remembered the pearl-and-cashmere-wearing gentle and rational kindness that the character once played by Kristin Davis exuded. I thought of her perennial kindness and her willingness to see the positive side of every situation. I made a decision then and there. If I was going to be a Charlotte, dang it, I was going to be a freaking good one.I started by learning to cook. I ordered an assortment of ingredients and recipes for meals from a service called Home Chef which assured me that even a kitchen-averse imbecile like me would be able to decipher it. I then scoured YouTube searching for things like “how to clean a sink” and “fun crafts for toddlers”. I did laundry and dishes every day and I regularly brought my husband espresso which he sipped while I rubbed his shoulders.Previous to 2020, I would have thought that these were things not worth my time. After all, I could pay someone else to clean our house, I could take my son to a crafts class taught by a professional, I could order Postmates, and I could order a Soothe masseuse to rub my hu

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sband’s shoulders. But, what I discovered as I was doing these tasks was a sense of, well, joy.I got a surge of accomplishment when I plated and served a beautiful meal for my family. It made me feel that I was caring for my husband and son when I carefully rolled their socks together and placed them in the drawer. And I came to enjoy the confidence that came with knowing how to make things sparkle with a swift and effective swipe of a Clorox-soaked sponge. Rather than making me feel like just a “housewife”, my new tasks made me feel powerful, important, and loving.“OMG, I thought, I LIKE being a Charlotte.” I like taking care of my little family, making sure things are neat and tidy, and devising creative ways to educate and entertain my child. Yes, I still am a full-time writer and I work a lot, but then, I thought, Charlotte was also an art dealer as well. I suddenly started imagining all of the cashmere, penny loafers, and khakis I’d wear during the winter. I could get used to this new identity, I thought.I think back to my crazy days of living in New York, staying out until dawn, and yes, usually also writing about it. I think of the crazy stories I collected and all of the fun I enjoyed in my many years as a Carrie. And then I realized something. I could still have fun as a Charlotte. Sure, things are different now, but, at this point in my life, I find just as much joy in a quiet dinner at home with my family as I did a pulsing nightclub in New York with my girlfriends.Will I go back to being a Carrie someday? Maybe. But, for now, for the rest of 2020, I am content to explore my new life and my new character. Maybe I’ll even buy some fake pearls.</article></body>

And I’m not embarrassed about it

I’m convinced that every woman, since the premiere of Sex in the City in 1998, has had the “who are you” conversation with her girlfriends. “I think you’re Miranda because you’re such a boss babe.” “You’re SO Carrie because you’ve never used your oven. She’s Charlotte because she wants kids and I guess that makes me Samantha!”

One of the many crazy ways I used to mentally understand where I fit in the world was that I was the “Carrie” of all of my groups of girlfriends. I owned way too many shoes, I often made regrettable fashion and dating choices, and I used my oven for storage (cereal and dry goods, though, not shoes). I was the free-spirited and lovable klutzy freelancer who waltzed through the world in stilettos.

Every now and then, I would dip a toe into Miranda land. I felt particularly Miranda-ish when I got my master’s degree in business and Samantha-like when I did a burlesque show to raise money for AIDS, but I still remained, for all intents and purposes, rooted in my Carrie-ness for almost twenty years of my life.

Then 2020 happened. Now, I’m not going to lie, I had been leaning toward being a Charlotte for a while, but, like my other forays into other characters, I thought that this was just a phase. I still wore my stilettos throughout my pregnancy and, when I got married and bought a house, I rationalized, even Carrie eventually found Mr. Big.

It wasn’t until 2020 that I looked around at my daily life and thought, “I’ve been lying to myself. I’m not a Carrie. I’m a Charlotte.” After leaving my full-time job in August and losing most of my other work traveling to the pandemic, I am now a self-employed writer who is a mom and the wife of a busy husband. I realized that all of my Carrie-ness had been whisked away with the new decade.

But then, I remembered the pearl-and-cashmere-wearing gentle and rational kindness that the character once played by Kristin Davis exuded. I thought of her perennial kindness and her willingness to see the positive side of every situation. I made a decision then and there. If I was going to be a Charlotte, dang it, I was going to be a freaking good one.

I started by learning to cook. I ordered an assortment of ingredients and recipes for meals from a service called Home Chef which assured me that even a kitchen-averse imbecile like me would be able to decipher it. I then scoured YouTube searching for things like “how to clean a sink” and “fun crafts for toddlers”. I did laundry and dishes every day and I regularly brought my husband espresso which he sipped while I rubbed his shoulders.

Previous to 2020, I would have thought that these were things not worth my time. After all, I could pay someone else to clean our house, I could take my son to a crafts class taught by a professional, I could order Postmates, and I could order a Soothe masseuse to rub my husband’s shoulders. But, what I discovered as I was doing these tasks was a sense of, well, joy.

I got a surge of accomplishment when I plated and served a beautiful meal for my family. It made me feel that I was caring for my husband and son when I carefully rolled their socks together and placed them in the drawer. And I came to enjoy the confidence that came with knowing how to make things sparkle with a swift and effective swipe of a Clorox-soaked sponge. Rather than making me feel like just a “housewife”, my new tasks made me feel powerful, important, and loving.

“OMG, I thought, I LIKE being a Charlotte.” I like taking care of my little family, making sure things are neat and tidy, and devising creative ways to educate and entertain my child. Yes, I still am a full-time writer and I work a lot, but then, I thought, Charlotte was also an art dealer as well. I suddenly started imagining all of the cashmere, penny loafers, and khakis I’d wear during the winter. I could get used to this new identity, I thought.

I think back to my crazy days of living in New York, staying out until dawn, and yes, usually also writing about it. I think of the crazy stories I collected and all of the fun I enjoyed in my many years as a Carrie. And then I realized something. I could still have fun as a Charlotte. Sure, things are different now, but, at this point in my life, I find just as much joy in a quiet dinner at home with my family as I did a pulsing nightclub in New York with my girlfriends.

Will I go back to being a Carrie someday? Maybe. But, for now, for the rest of 2020, I am content to explore my new life and my new character. Maybe I’ll even buy some fake pearls.