When I met my ex, almost 6 years ago, I had just written a Myspace note (old school) where I admitted that I'm Miranda...you know the one, from Sex and City.
I'm not Carrie. I'm not that cute, and I can't put outfits like that together. She's fun, she's sexy, she's the girl that walks into a room and guys pay attention. Okay, so she looks like a horse, but that's one horse I'd bang.
I'm not Samantha. I have no Smith Jerrod. (Yum!)
And I'm certainly not Charlotte. I don't really care about prestige, and I'm most definitely not that innocent.
So who does that make me? Miranda. The cynical redhead, with a great job, who focuses on her work, and doesn't realize a good thing when it bites her in the ass. Yep, I am most definitely Miranda.
I've always been about work and succeeding. Relationships were an afterthought, first things first, become someone. Miranda almost threw away her relationship with Steve because she was so caught up in herself. And Steve's a good guy...for the most part. But she would push him away, convince herself he wasn't worth it, and then go back to her law firm and act as if she was okay. Brady changed things, but what if she never had him?
I don't dislike Miranda, but if I want to be happy and find the one for me, then I need to stop pushing people away. What being Miranda got me was a 5 year long relationship of unhappiness because I was afraid to leave...because no one loves a Miranda.
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