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I’m Still Not Over The Fact That Carrie Chose Big

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I love Sex and the City. Like, way too much. I’ve cruised through the series a solid five times, and I’ve been known to jack your boyfriend’s HBO GO account the minute my previous benefactor catches on and changes his password. Deep down, I know the show kind of sucks. SJP is annoying as fuck, Miranda is an embarrassment to my ginger kin, and Charlotte is a constant reminder of my biological clock. The only real saving grace is watching Samantha treat men like crap and feel little to no remorse for it.

But as an avid watcher, I feel I must break my silence and pose a question more crucial than all other love triangle debates, including Edward vs. Jacob, Dawson vs. Pacey, and Peeta vs. Gale. (Sidenote: if you didn’t choose the latter in all three of those examples, I hate you):

Why the fuck did Carrie pick Big?

It just doesn’t makes sense. She had Aidan Shaw, a man who loved her, who wanted to make a home with her, and who treated her like she wasn’t a totally self-absorbed and financially unstable mess. She was dating the perfect guy, who she so accurately described as “warm, masculine and classic American– like his furniture.” And she threw it all away, because apparently landing a slam who is both jacked enough to master carpentry and sensitive enough to enjoy a bubble bath is so 2000.

Of all of her boyfriends, Aidan was undoubtedly the best. Together they made the perfect yin and yang. She was self-obsessed, pretentious, and superficial. He was down to Earth, caring, and optimistic that she wouldn’t spiral out of control and shatter his heart, which she did. Twice.

I know it sounds like I have it out for Big, but it’s not like that. Big is a DILF, and I can’t hate on his sultry half-grin (or his bank account). But he treated Carrie significantly worse than Aidan did, and I might argue that he’s borderline sociopathic. Not to mention, he has a history of cheating, sometimes with Carrie. I’ll never understand why she chose to be with a guy who cast her as the other woman while he was married to his perfectly decent (albeit boring as fuck) wife, Natasha.

But Aidan never cheated. He was too busy hand crafting furniture for Charlotte’s wedding gift, rescuing a naked Miranda after she threw out her back, and cooking Carrie dinner. All he wanted was for Carrie to open up, which she might have done, if she weren’t too busy overanalyzing every detail of their relationship until she no longer wanted to be a part of it.

Hate all you want, but I’m not ashamed about the fact that Aidan would have been enough for me (nor am I ashamed for being absurdly invested in an outdated show that shamelessly broadcasts some of the ’90s worst trends). This shit haunts me. Aidan was everything a girl could want, and fully devoted himself entirely to an undeserving Carrie, who couldn’t let herself love him because she was too addicted to the pain of Mr. Big. Every time I revisit the era of Aidan I realize that I’m just not over it, and I probably never will be.

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Lucky Jo

Lucky Jo is a former and current TSM writer who likes her men how she likes her coffee: way too hot and unforgivably bitter. She graduated from the University of Missouri in 2016, proving that C's do in fact get degrees. She now spends her days working for a social media marketing agency, hiking with her dachshund, and trying to bring back the scrunchie. Hate mail and goat memes can be sent to [email protected].

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