Accidental Phone Sex with Your Ex: Wrap It Up Ladies



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By Stefanie Marshall



For the most part, as a woman, I feel like Sex and the City is an extreme exaggeration of what life is really like as a 20/30/40 something year old woman. But it’s TV, so you must allow for that. However, it also allows for women (like myself, sick with nostalgia and the idea of their very own Mr. Big) to think it is acceptable to hang onto a man for far longer than they should.

I’m sitting here in my living room on a Wednesday afternoon watching another mindless episode of the show - because it is on and because until this moment, I had no inspiration to write anything today. Carrie is in a relationship with Berger. Big calls her in the middle of the night, feeling nostalgic and frisky himself so in turn, she has “accidental phone sex” with Big while dating Berger. Now, okay, I’m not judging Carrie or anyone else guilty of this kind of behavior BUT, why does Big get that freedom? Why is Big allowed to call in the middle of the night to reminisce? Because last time I checked, if I call in the middle of the night for something of the same nature, I’m harshly judged and also told I’m “crazy” or that I need to “move on already”. Or the worst of them all, “desperate”.

I have a Big. He’s been around for just as long as Carrie’s Big. He’s just as influential. He’s just as suffocating and handsome and confused and destructive. But the difference is my Big and I are not going to end up on a bridge in Paris, finally united and live pseudo happily ever after. The difference is, I live in the real world where Big calls in the middle of the night to talk about the hot sex we had one summer night in the park so that he can convince me to have hot sex on this specific night because there is no one else he is currently banging.

The difference is my Big is never going to take responsibility for his mistakes, and I am never going to be able to turn him in to the man that Carrie’s Big ends up being in TV land. But what this moment on television is really screaming at me is this: stop taking Big’s calls, stop responding to his texts, stop giving him power, and stop pretending he is as BIG as he once was in the grand scheme of life.

As I wrap it up here, the message is quite literally that. Wrap it up ladies. Get it together. I’ll be over here working on the same thing.

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Stefanie Marshall

Stefanie is a writer and a hopeless romantic. Probably both because of the other. She likes her whiskey neat and her men bearded. Mostly, she's told she's the good kind of terrifying.

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