The Internet - Why Our Lives Are Now Smaller

Do you remember a time before the internet?  I am old enough to.  I remember being taught how to use it the very first time.  The trainer asked us to search “how to cook a chicken”.  I did not know then how the internet would quickly form a major part of my life, my routine.  I did not realise how it would change my life, for the better and for the worse.

Anything that I could possibly want to buy is available online.   Books, music, clothes, the food I eat.

In some ways, the internet saves us a lot of time.  You don’t need to go into a clothing store anymore.  You can choose multiple options of whatever you want and get a courier to return what you don’t want.  You want to clean your sink drain, Amazon is here for you.  You can’t be bothered to cook tonight, Just Eat will sort you out. You forget an ingredient for the meal you are cooking tonight, Deliveroo has your back.   You want to go somewhere, you open Google Maps.

The internet has made it so you could reasonably never leave your home if you didn’t want to.  Especially if you work from home.

You can be permanently entertained, forever.  Netflix, Prime, Disney Plus, Youtube.  You will never run out of things to watch.  Adverts can be a thing of the past, if you pay for the privilege.  You can connect to people from all over the world, without ever leaving your sofa.

The internet even provides some with a job now.  You can use it to purchase things and then review them.  You can game and have people watch you play.  You can spout your opinions online and have people listen to you.

The internet has given me much.  The platform I write to you on now.  Twitter, I refuse to use X, that helped me to find some like minded people and opened up my voice.

But with the good, comes the bad.

We are losing social skills.  We are losing human interactions.  We are losing our time to things that do not matter and do not affect our lives.  We lose hours doom scrolling, playing games, always searching for the next dopamine hit.  The next really interesting thing that is surely just a scroll away.

I remember my old morning routine.  I got up in the morning, had a shower, made a fresh coffee, put my makeup on and sat down on the sofa, munching on a slice of toast before I was out of the door.  Quick, easy.  Up and out of the house within 45 minutes.

Now, I sit on the sofa and check to see what is going on in the world before I start my day.  I check Facebook, Twitter, a news website.  What I guess I would consider “the necessary”.  The absolute basics.  Then I “quickly” check Reddit and suddenly thirty more minutes have disappeared, reading stories about other people’s lives.  Scroll, scroll, scroll, scroll.  So it begins.

I drag myself out of the house and catch the bus.  Instead of just quietly sitting there, maybe reading my book if I have remembered it; it is more doom scrolling, maybe playing a game on an app or for a longer journey, watching an episode of one of my shows on Netflix.  I must be entertained.

Sitting quietly, or chatting with someone is a thing of the past.  We can no longer just sit.  We check our emails, check the socials. Shop.  All while the people next to us do the same thing.  Interacting with our phones instead of each other.  We converse with the people in our phones instead of the person right in front of us.

Children’s birthday parties used to be full of games and playing and pin the tail on the donkey.  Listening to music together and dancing.  Now each child sits there, immersed in their own world on their phones.  Your “cool” status rides on how many likes you have, how many followers you have.

I remember having problems in school when I was a child.  Bullying was involved.  But back then, I could go home.  To my safe haven.  Those children were not there.  I was with my family.  There was an escape from it.

Now, there is no escape.  Those same children are now online, talking about you.  Posting about you.  The bullying actually becomes worse because people says things online that they would never to your face.  They can start a rumour about you that spreads in minutes, true or not.  There is no escape.

You can also not just be “you” anymore.  You have to have a label.  As many labels as possible.  The more you can put on your social media profiles, the better.  You are not tidy, you have OCD.  You are not a moody teenager.  You have depression, bipolar, anxiety disorder.  You have an argument with your parents.  Oh, you must have PTSD.  You are struggling with your growing body and hormones.  Maybe you aren’t a girl after all.  Maybe you are a boy.  Maybe you are both. 

Decide.  DECIDE!  Tell the world.  Tell the internet.  And once you decide, you are not allowed to go back.  You cannot change your mind.  Who you are.  Thoughts that you tweeted ten years ago which do not represent you anymore are enough to hang you.  You are not allowed to change.  The internet lasts forever.

The internet can also be used as a weapon in a different form.   That cheeky snap that you send your partner can end up being shared to everyone you know.  That video you made together, can end up on Pornhub.

Men and women have been pitted against each other like never before.  All men are this, all women are that.  How do you know?  Well I saw a video on Youtube.  I read a thread on Reddit.  Not actual interaction.

People tell you, as I have told you above, that our world has increased and been made easier by the internet.

But in fact, when you look, when you really look, our world has gotten so much smaller.  Our lives have become more insular.  We shout at the world telling them to listen to us, read our stories, watch us; but the people next to us no longer exist.

We can never go back.  Our lives are too intertwined. But there are changes we can make.    These are the promises I make to myself:

·       -  When I am with someone, my phone is away.

·       - When I am on the bus, I will read a book, not a Reddit story.

·       - When I want to go somewhere, I will take recommendations from word of mouth, not a Yelp reviewer.

·       -  I will start writing more again.  It gives me peace and enjoyment.  The numbers of who reads and who   doesn’t no longer concerns me.

·       -  If I cannot find something to watch, I will read, I will talk.  I will no longer doom scroll for an hour to     find something.

There is a hard one.  Reddit.  Of all the doom scrolling, this is the one for me.  There is no purpose to Reddit.  You read about other people’s lives and not your own.  You comment on those lives with your opinion, which is right for some but not for others.  You are barely even allowed to have an opinion on Reddit these days as it is, so why am I still there?

I no longer want to engage in things that do not bring anything into my life.   Do not add to my life and in fact, take time away from actually living my life.  I can use the internet for the good it still holds to.  I can educate myself, I can learn about new things.  There is so much out there I do not know and that information is at my fingertips.  But instead, I scroll.

This is the promise we need to make to ourselves. 

Stop. Scrolling. 

It is ok not to be entertained

Recovery from a Hysterectomy - 10 weeks in

 This is a follow up to my initial post on how I have been recovering from a hysterectomy.

I am now ten weeks in and this has been my experience.

The first four weeks of my recovery were much easier than I expected.  Sleepiness, some insomnia, a little pain now and again but on the while, it was plain sailing.  The following two weeks were much the same.

Then, six weeks post surgery (presumably once all the swelling had started to decrease) I started to get pain in my right thigh.  This increased to the point where I was hobbling and barely able to walk.  Prior to this I had been getting up every hour, walking around the house, was back to cooking lunches and dinners every day.  I made sure to go up and down the stairs every day to get a bit of exercise, as the weather outside was not the best.

After suffering with quite significant pain in my thigh for a week, I ended up after taking advice going to urgent care.  What had happened was something which can be a result of the surgery.  I had robotic surgery and was in a diagonal position for three hours.  This trapped a nerve in my thigh.

It was a relief to know at least what was wrong and that the pain would go away.

I had the pain for about another ten days, and was given Codeine and Naproxen for the pain.  Which I have to say amused me because although I needed it, the hospital only gave me three painkillers to take home with me after my hysterectomy.  Three!  Thankfully simple paracetamol worked for me for any pain I had in that regard.

I ended up taking two extra days off work as a result of the trapped nerve and had to be careful for my first week back at work, where typically I work on the top floor, only accessed by stairs.

I share this with you today not to scare you.  Getting a trapped nerve can happen, but it is not a usual thing or something you should worry about expecting to happen.

I am now ten weeks post surgery and I have no pain at all.  My scars are healing wonderfully and I am again back to wondering whether they did take out anything at all, given that my healing journey (leg aside) has been so easy!

I am happy that I had the surgery.  No more pain.  No more periods.  I am back to normal, working and everything is just as it should be.

Recovery from A Hysterectomy - My Journey So Far

On the 30th December I had a hysterectomy.  This is something, after trying many other avenues without success, that was needed.  I met with a Consultant last June and after reviewing my scan which revealed large fibroids that had once again returned, he advised that I should have a hysterectomy, leaving my ovaries so that I could go through menopause naturally.

My answer was obvious.  No more pain, no more periods (woo hoo!).  At my age although the possibility of getting pregnant was still a factor and was possible, I have never wanted children; so taking away that possibility was also something I wanted.  Plus getting rid of the damn Mirena coil was an added bonus.  I had already vowed never, ever to go through the pain of having one in again.

It is now coming up to four weeks since my surgery and I am pleased that I made the right choice.  I have heard many different experiences about recovery post surgery, from what happens when you wake up, to potential pain, problems and mobility after.  So I thought that I would share my experience with you so far.

I had a robotic hysterectomy.  I do urge you to google the machine that they use.  It is amazing!  If you have ever seen RoboCop, the scene where they bring the machine into the board meeting and it ends up killing someone; it looks a little like that.  It is very cool.   Alas I did not get to see in person as I was already under anaesthetic before they wheeled me into surgery.

The next morning after my surgery (finished around 7.30 the last before), I expected to be quite a bit of pain.  For me, the pain wasn't bad at all.  In fact I was more concerned about the catheter that they were due to take out.  I don't know why, but that freaked me out more than anything else.

Before they will discharge you, you have to be able to get up and move around, have the catheter out and have peed at least three times so that they know everything is working there as it should.  I just wanted to go home.  I had not slept well the night before.  The nurses (who were wonderful) checked on me around every 45 minutes during the night so sleep didn't go too well.  So I drank and drank until the required bathroom element was completed and I could go home.

Upon discharge they gave me a sick note for six weeks, which they told me was the minimum (I promptly lost this as soon as I got home and had to get another from my GP).  They also give you seven injections, well six as they did the first in the hospital for me, which you need to inject into your stomach every day.  

No one likes injections, but after the initial "I cannot not this" and then deciding that having my boyfriend in control of the injection rather than me would be worse (yes I am a control freak), I got the first one out of the way.  By injection 4 I was an old hat at it and it barely hurt at all.  

The first thing that I will tell you, which I think is a universal thing, is that you are going to be tired.  Not just right after the surgery and in the days after, but for a long time.  I am still tired, although I am not doing much of anything other than watching box sets and reading books.

Alongside the tiredness, for the first couple of weeks I was also experiencing insomnia.  Sometimes I was wide away until 3-4 am.  This is dissipating now.  But the tiredness persists.  My boyfriend tells me that I am sleeping less during the day now though, so that is some improvement.

One thing that I was worried about was the scarring.  I knew that there would be five incision sites and I had visions of looking like Frankenstein's monster.  I was very pleasantly surprised.  There are five different sites, some with a couple of incisions next to each other.  The size of them surprised me, barely half an inch, if that.  Four weeks on, I have started to use bio oil and am happy to report that they will be barely noticeable.  

Going on to the pain.  Everyone is different, some get a lot, some get prolonged pain, some experience medium levels, some experience none.  In general, my pain levels have been small.  I have had a couple of days recently where the pain has increased, but to do with every knitting together I think.  I was given three days of pain medication, one a day I think, but on the whole, a couple of paracetamol or Ibuprofen have held me comfortably.  Some days I have none at all.

Before the operation and since having it I have been using the Hysterectomy section on Reddit.  This has been massively helpful as many women have written about and answered questions that I wanted to know.  If you have a hysterectomy, I highly recommend going on there.

One thing that I have learned is that it is important to listen to the "don't dos".   Sex is obviously off the menu for a while.  But the important parts are: don't lift anything heavy.  Don't do too much, of anything.  Don't drive.

Not doing anything is a challenge.  But it is necessary.  Doing the smallest thing can tire you out.  Start small.  Very small.

Because I have an office job I was given six weeks off work.  If you have a more manual job they will sign you off for longer.  Take the time.  All of it.  If, like me with smaller pain levels, you get the urge to go back to work early, don't.  If you can't make yourself dinner without having to lie down after, you definately cannot manage to work for eight hours.

That is my journey so far.  I will let you know how I go on when I get back to work in mid February.  But I am healing well and am trying to enjoy this period away from work.  This is the longest period I have had from work since I left school and no doubt will not have again until I retire. 

So far, so good!

2025 - The Biggest Year of My Life

 2025 was a big one.  The biggest of my life.

My boyfriend and I started 2025 in a flurry of activity.  We had bought a house and were in the process of moving boxes from November 2024 until we finally moved in, in mid January 2025.  This was a big move for me.

I had moved in with my boyfriend two years prior, but his home did not feel like my home.  Anyone who has moved in with someone who previously lived with a long term partner can understand that.  Although I liked the house, it was not truly my home and I knew that I would never be at home there.

My boyfriend had restored that house from the ground up and had a lot of emotion tired to that house, but he knew that I would never be comfortable.  Finding a home perfect for both of us though was less of a challenge than I thought.  The right one appeared and by January, we were in. 

Although there is work to be done and changes to be made, I truly love this house.  It feels like home.  My home.  Our home.  This is the first house of my life that has truly felt like mine.  

So that was the first big change of the year.  The second was my job.  I had been thinking about a change of jobs for a few months, but having been at that job for 25+ years, even thinking about moving was a big thing.  I had truly grown up with that firm, having started there when I turned 18.  Some people still there when I left had seen me grow from a child to a woman and I had a relationship with my boss that I know will never be replicated.  

But the work had changed.  The firm had changed.  I was working and had been for some time in historical abuse and that was taking its toll.  Adding that to a change in ownership and a change in location and all the signs were telling me that it was time to go.

I was lucky enough to be headhunted in March by another firm.  Different department, different work, more pay and the people all seemed to be nice.  So, I made the decision and jumped ship.

My last day with the firm was emotional.  I shed tears when I walked out of the door for the last time but could only hope that I had made the right decision.

Starting at my new job was like starting my career over again.  Although the basis of what I did was the same, the work was completely new and I knew nothing about it.  I was starting to learn again, whilst being in a busy office and from the ground up.  But I found the challenge exhilarating and after the first couple of months of "Can I do this?" the answer was yes, yes I can.

I have been incredibly lucky to move to this new firm where I feel at home.  Where all the staff are fantastic, I made made a close friend in one of my colleagues and the money is better.  My old boss has checked on me a couple of times (I suspect to see if I wanted to come back) and I have bumped into him once.  I had a fantastic working relationship with him and that is something that I will never have again.  The rest of my old work colleagues have been disappointing.  I have not heard from any of them (yes I reached out).  But hey ho.  My life has moved on.

Finally, and most importantly, I have finally found my inner peace.  I have struggled for most of my adult life, but this was the year where I found the tools to put to rest my ghosts.  I reached the point where I could finally exhale.   I had the moment of knowing, right then and there, that everything is now ok.  I am ok.  It was wonderful.  More than wonderful.

Healing can be a long process and the journey can be full of dead ends, side paths and doubling back.  But since that day, I have felt a calm, a peace and happiness like I have never known.  I am now who I was always meant to be.  Unrestrained and unencumbered by pain.  

I have my boyfriend who I adore, a home I love, a job I enjoy, great friends and I have found my peace.  There are no more locked boxes hidden away, no dark corners in the attic of my mind.  There is light there now; and peace and happiness.

I am thankful.

Silly Things That Irritate

Have you ever had an absolute irritation of something that is completely irrational?  Something that has no effect on you or your life whatsoever?

Well mine is the way that Americans call a starter and main course "entrees and appetizers".

Here comes the fucks.  Sorry.

Entrees and appetizers ?  You are not fucking French!  Even then they get it wrong.  An entree is a first course, an APPETIZER, not the bloody main course itself! 

Americans do not even have what you could really call their own cuisine.  They cook from cuisines all over the world, but do not really have their own (and don't bring up barbecue because that is Caribbean).

For example, I saw a question on Reddit posed as "What is the American equivalent to someone breaking spaghetti in front of an Italian?"  The top answer was cooking a Philly cheek steak incorrectly.  

A FUCKING steak sandwich.

It is enough that they bastardise the English language.  It is herbs, not fucking erbs.    To quote Eddie Izzard, it has a fucking H in it!

Why does this anger me so much?  I have no idea.  

Sorry Americans.  Not sorry.

What irritates you irrationally?

Where Do We Go From Here?

 

When For Women Scotland won the appeal against the Scottish Government which in turn, cemented and clarified in law what we already knew, that women were and have always been biological women; I innocently thought that the fight had, not been won, but that we could move forward on the basis that the ruling would be adhered to.

Oh sweet summer child.

Some organisations have capitulated, the Transit Police for example rolling back their ridiculous decision to give biological men the power to strip search women. 

Crimes will no longer recorded as chosen sex, but the person’s actual sex (although I note some crimes go reported with no sex at all listed).

Many sport associations are no longer allowing men into women’s sports.

What has become apparently however, is that the powers that be simply don’t care about the ruling.

Unison, the country’s biggest union recently allowed a biological man to run for a female seat.  The Labour Women’s Conference has been postponed.   Some NHS Trusts and Local Councils are blatantly ignoring the ruling, still allowing men into women’s toilets and changing rooms, claiming that they need “further guidance”.

What further guidance is needed I ask?  Men cannot ever become biological women or be acknowledged as being so.  So says the Supreme Court.  They therefore do not belong in women’s spaces.

What these organisations are telling us, what the Labour Government is telling us (see also the text messages spread around by MPs after the ruling) is that they do not care.  The ruling means nothing to them and they intend to carry on as they wish.

For Women Scotland went through two judicial reviews and an appeal at the Supreme Court, expending over two hundred thousand pounds in the process to get there, not to mention hundreds of hours of time; only for us now to effectively be told that it doesn’t matter.

So what does this mean for women’s rights? When we win in the highest Court in the land, yet that ruling is simply ignored by those who wish to.

I think in some places the ruling was welcome.  I do not believe that many sport associations wanted a crossover of men in women’s sports, effectively ruining every sport that they entered.  But for many other organisations, Trusts, Councils, the Government; it clearly was not.

The trans agenda brings profit.  It allows control.  It brings a distraction when needed for the Government to wield. 

The trans agenda was welcomed, encouraged, assisted and promoted by those in power because it is useful to them.  Because they have their own agenda.  Why else let organisations mutilate children’s bodies with drugs that stem their growth and reduce their bone density.  Why else tell children that they can be born into the wrong body and that there is a quick fix to all their problems.   Why else wave through women’s bathrooms being made into gender neutral, allow men in our changing rooms and our rape crisis centres, removing our safety and safe spaces in the process.

What do we do now in the question?  Someone brings a Court case for each time the Supreme Court is ignored?  They know that this is going to be an impossible feat, not just from a financial point of view, or the time involved; but also because we now have to wonder, is there any point?

If the Supreme Court are to be ignored which it appears in many cases that they are being, how can we fight this?  Especially when our own Government clearly did not want the ruling and by “postponing” the Women’s Conference, they have made their stance quite clear. 

What I fear is that this will now escalate.  I fear that they will do away with the Equality Act all together, rewriting it so as to make the rights of men who pose and cos play as women, front and centre.

What I see is that the Government allowed this ruling to change the situation in things like sports, but had no intention of following through with anything else.  Which poses the question. 

How far down this rabbit hole of hell are we going to go?

Big Changes Afoot

 I started this year with a big change, the only change that I thought possible this year.  I moved into a new home with my boyfriend.  A house that would be ours.  To create new memories.  A new chapter.  It was to be the start of the rest of our lives together and still is.

But it appears that the world of change was not done with me yet.

I have worked for the same company since I was 18 years old.  Over 25 years ago, over half of my life.  I grew into an adult with that firm.  They saw the many stages in my life, the way that I grew and the various iterations of the person that I would eventually become.

People came and people went over the years, but generally it was a firm that people stayed with and some I have known for as long as I have been there.

But as everything does, things changed; certainly over the past couple of years.  The firm was bought out and the company that I knew, changed.  The soul of the firm was different.  Everyone feels it.  Suddenly, the thought of working elsewhere crossed my mind.

It was not just the change of the guard, it was other things too.  The person I had worked with for so longer was coming towards retiring.  I had moved departments with him a few years ago and the cases that we now deal with are traumatic.  The type that you take home at night.  That torment you. 

Last week I was approached by another firm, offering me a new job.  A new department, more money and a security that I felt was slipping away at my current firm.  At my age, an opportunity that I could not ignore.

So I went for an interview.  

Without telling you what I do,  I can tell you that people who want to do, actually do, my job are rare.  They don't want to be that busy.  They see it as a stepping stone.  They see it as something that you move on from.  

I am a lifer when it comes to what I do.  I am good at it and I enjoy it.  My aspirations in life are work to live, not live to work.  This is rare in my field.  As such, finding someone like me who wants to stay and commit is rare.  Sought after.  Something I didn't actually understand, until I went to the interview.

I was offered the job.

Yesterday, after much deliberation, soul searching and a lot of worry, I decided to accept and handed my notice in.

Is it the right decision?  For me, now, yes.  Will it be the right decision in the long run?  I hope so.  Only time will tell.  What finally clinched my decision however was the realisation that if this new job went south, would I want to go back to my current job and the answer was no.  

I have loved my current job and moving away from it will be hard and strange and new.  But I have changed so much over the years.  I have grown and the person who started at the firm all those years ago is not me anymore.  I am ready for a new challenge.

Another new chapter.  That is two this year.  Wish me luck!

When Older Men Hit On You - What I Needed to Hear at 15

I just saw a post on Reddit that made me pause, and remember.

The question was "Women who were hit on by grown men when you were a teenager, what did you do?"  The girl asking the question was 15 years old.

The one thing that men will never understand is how this feels when you are a young girl.  Your whole world changes, forever.  It is the moment your childhood ends because you realise that you are no longer safe.  You can no longer dance carefree through the world as you used to.  It does not change in one day, it happens incrementally.  The rules that will change you and cage you appear so very quickly.

I hit puberty early and started to develop breasts when I was 11.  

I used to go to a park very close to our home which had swings, a roundabout and a slide.  I used to like going to play there when I was younger and even at 11/12 I would still go there, on my own, swinging around on the roundabout with a book.

That particular day, while happily sitting on the roundabout, a group of older boys turned up.  They were probably 15 years old.  They started to talk about me.  "Look, she's got tits already!".  They could see I was still so very young.  They came closer to me, asking me if they could touch them.  I ran away home and thankfully nothing more happened.

There was an awkwardness, a lack of understanding and some fear about that day.  But it was explained away as silliness of older boys and not to worry about it.  Although with a warning perhaps not to go there alone again.  

Don't go out on your own, it isn't safe.

I started to notice that adult me were starting to treat me differently.  At first I brushed it off until I started to recognise the signs.  The way they spoke to you was different.  Not like you speak to a child.  Almost flirting.   But subtly.  It was the look in the eyes that did it.  The way they would tell me I was so pretty and that all the men would be after me soon.  With a certain look in their eyes.  The way they pressed just that bit closer than I was used to, than I felt uncomfortable with.

Back then, I  did not understand their intentions, but I knew that something had changed and I did not like the way they looked at me.  The way they stepped that little bit closer to me.  I felt like a rabbit being eyed by a fox.

Be careful with adult men.

The older I got, the more developed I looked, the more this came to happen.  Some men, even men I had known as a child looked at me in a different way.  Like I was a woman.  Except I wasn't.  By the time I was 13 my fellow male pupils started to notice my shape too.  The size of my breasts gained me a nickname at school, which I won't share here.  There was also a presumption that I was "up for it", purely based on that my breasts were large.

Cover up or you are asking for it.

Over time, as we all do, I learned how to get away from the older men and deal with them.  Boys were a a different story and the lessons of how to deal with my peers look far longer.

That is the advice that I shared on the Reddit post.

 I went through this. From 12. Be strong is the first thing. It can be hard and they can be persistent. I will tell you what I used to do, which worked generally.

Say loudly "You do know I'm only 15 right? Then walk away.

If you are stuck in the conversation or the room with the man, say at a family party or something, look at him direct in the eye and say to him in a normal tone "This isn't the way you should be speaking to a 15 year old. Leave me alone". Then walk away.

If you are in public, go up to the nearest woman and tell her what he is doing/saying. She WILL look after you. I never had a woman walk away from me. Because we have all been there.

Be strong OP. Look them in the eyes when you say the above to them. Make them feel as uncomfortable as they did to you.

Looking them in the eye was definately the key for me. Making them understand that I knew what they were doing and that I knew that he knew that how he was behaving was wrong.

Sometimes if I was at a gathering or party where I knew other women, I would repeat what the man had said to me to the nearest woman. "Hey Aunty June, Bob thinks I should go out on a date with him, what do you think?"

I was strong because I had to be. But there are things that I wish that I could tell that 15 year old girl now.

• Your worth does not go up and down depending on what you look like.
• If he is over 5 years older than you and he is flirting with you, do not trust him.
• It is not "cool" if an older men is flirting with you, no matter how attractive he is. He is a predator.
• If someone does something bad to you, TELL SOMEONE. It is not your fault.
• You will be ok, I promise.

What would you tell your 15 year old self?

An Ode to (the Old) Sex and the City

I preface this post by saying that when I write about Sex and the City, I am only talking about the series and the two films for the purposes of this post.  I just can't talk about "And Just Like That".

I remember when Sex and the City came across my screen in the 1999.   

Many people did (and still do) say that the show was purely about sex and shoes.  Fluff content.  True enough there is a lot of sex and shoes in SATC.  But there is also something much more in the characters of Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda that represent many women.

 

I saw something in each of those women that represented myself.  Things I was and things that I wanted to be but also, I saw my imperfections in them too.  That was the important part.  They were not perfect.  Far from it.  But I could identify with each of them in different ways.

 

I saw four completely different people, four friends, that were soulmates.  The four of them combined made one beautiful whole.  A friendship that would last forever and through anything.  A constant in each other's lives, forever.

 

First there was Carrie with her writing, her distinct sense of style and the men in her life.  Several men throughout the series, but she knew as did we, the one that would always have her heart.  Mr Big.  The One.   Carrie could also be self centred and more than a little self absorbed at times.  

 

I wanted to write like her, I lived vicariously through her sense of style that I would never come close to and I understood completely that once your heart is taken, you never really get it back.  I was lucky with that last one.

 

But also, I am also a little self centred and a little self absorbed.  I recognise it and try to work on it.  But it was nice to see a lead character portrayed as less than perfect.

 

I also saw myself in Charlotte.  Charlotte who wanted nothing more than to fall in love and marry.  Charlotte was also a little spoiled and thought nothing of giving up her successful career to be a stay at home wife, although with Trey, she had not thought this through.  The typical rich bitch, except Charlotte was not a bitch.  I’m not sure she would ever say the word, except in whisper.  But she believed in true love, real love, and the right “one”.  That definitely is me.

 

Then we have Miranda,  I could see so much of myself in Miranda too.  Despite her successful career, she had so many insecurities.  She pushed men away, especially Steve, until she realised, almost when it was too late, he was the one.  (Actively ignoring the new Miranda in the new series. That is not Miranda).

She was never without an opinion, even through her insecurities, which was brought out more in her by her friends.  She blossomed in those friendships.  She learned from them and with them and also learned to trust and love with Steve.  Miranda's journey to let down her walls, trust and love was something that I understand and have lived. 

 

Finally, Samantha.  I never wanted to be Samantha or aspire to her love for bed hopping.  But I appreciated her.  I loved her.  

Samantha was the best friend of all of them.  The better friend.  I feel she loved the rest of them the most.

 

I loved how unapologetic Samantha was.  She was beautiful and acknowledged it, but in a manner of fact way rather than boastful.  She had a great career and she knew what she wanted (and nearly always got it).  Her life may not be one that many of us would choose in the relationship department, but the thing about Samantha was that she was never anything but completely herself, making up her own rules.  I admired that.

 

“I love you, but I love me more”.  While those are not words you would hear from me, it is important that we love ourselves too.

 

Over the 6 seasons (was it really only 6?) you got to know these women inside and out.  You knew their characters, their strengths, their flaws and their weaknesses.  You got to know them so well that you could anticipate what each of them would do.

 

Carrie, that she would always and forever, belong to Big.  Wherever her path led her, it would always find its way back to him.

Charlotte, that she would do anything for love, even convert to another religion.

Miranda, that she was clever enough (eventually) to realise and tell Steve that she loved him.  That she didn’t have to be alone.  That she could rely on another person.

Samantha, that she would move heaven and earth for a friend, maybe not for a man.

What they have done to Sex and the City with the reboot of And Just Like That is ruin it.  Because they changed the people that they were.  Miranda most of all.  I watched the first season and I did not recognise the woman that I knew and had resonated with.  It was, quite simply, a betrayal.

I understood what the Star Wars fans were talking about with the reboots killing what they have grown up with and loved.  I went into and through my adulthood with those four women and the changes they made to their characters and the choices that they made, was wrong.   For what?  Money.

At least Kim Cattrell had the integrity not to join in, although I also cannot blame her for the apparent phone call they had I believe in the second season.  That must have been some pay off.

So I will keep my heart with the original series and not watch any of the new series.   The women I knew are no longer there.