It all started with a Halloween costume. This is what I said that day, not knowing Carrie Dragshaw would live on long past Halloween...

"Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they just need to run free until they find someone just as wild to run with them." I have wanted to be Carrie Bradshaw for Halloween ever since college, when I had HBO in my frat room and girls would come over and watch Sex and the City on Sundays and I would pretend that I hated it because I didn't want to give myself away. Well, the secret's out, and this is the happiest day of my life. @sarahjessicaparker sending you more love than you could even imagine ❤️ #carriedragshaw

On the road to love, sometimes you’re left out in the cold. As Aleksandr’s light exhibition opened and the light in our love went out, I couldn’t help but wonder: When you depend on men for warmth, are you destined for frostbite? And if one love leaves you cold, are you brave or crazy to try again? If at first he breaks your heart, cry cry again. But no matter how cold it gets, maybe the best way to bounce back after a break up is to be fabulous. To grab your faux fur, fairy skirt, and, most importantly, fabulous friends who will keep you warm. Because love hurts—but love heals, too. And there’s a light in everyone who’s looking for love. Keep it bright. It’s how the good ones find each other. #CarrieDragshaw

In old westerns, the cowboy always saves the damsel in distress. But what if the cowboy is the reason she’s distressed in the first place? Who will save the damsel when her hero is her downfall? As I was face-to-face with yet another failure on the wild frontier of love, I couldn’t help but wonder: Maybe this was the story of the damsel who learned to save herself. After all, this is not the Old West—this is New York. And there’s plenty of giddy up left in my honky tonk. Maybe some girls aren’t meant to ride into the sunset. Maybe they're meant to grab their other damsels and dance under the moonlight. #CarrieDragshaw

As I stepped past BeBe, my new BF headed to AA. My life was full of letters—D&G, DKNY, CK1, APC, Agnes B. (and DSW on the DL)—so why be scared of two more? As I obsessed over his addiction, I couldn’t help but wonder: Was I just as drunk? My vision of our future blurred because I took in too much of his past? And did we all spend so much time downing someone’s setbacks that we blacked out their strengths? After all, what is AA except a room full of people who had the courage to change. Just like Gucci in '94, sometimes you have to reinvent yourself to survive. In life, everyone's problems are different—but what if the stuff that helps us survive is all the same? The strength to look past a past full of pain. The heart to beat a scary disease. The bravery to look into a broken marriage and believe you deserve more. The courage to look into a mirror, broken, and believe you can be more. The daily heroism of living with anxiety or depression, loneliness or loss. The strength to not let a break up break you. The balls to love your body. The pride to love yourself. The simple power to not let anything—anything—take you down. I realized, every person you will ever pass on any sidewalk in any city has two things in common: We all have pain. And we haven't given up. We hide it on the inside because we think it makes us look weak. But what if our pain is also our power? Because anyone who dares to create a "New You" learns this, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly: You're so much stronger than you think you are. #CarrieDragshaw

Life is full of labels. Dior, Chanel. Normal, Weird. Democrat, Republican. Masculine, Feminine. And life can be a little simpler if you just pick a side. As I stood searching for a cab, I had a thought: Maybe someone would pick me up if I was a little easier to understand. I couldn’t help but wonder: Even in the Big Apple, was it better to think INside the box? To smooth your edges to fit their expectations? Or are some of us just meant to mix colors? U-nited state with red & blue? After all, some of the best inventions started as contrasts: Prada Sport. Discount Luxury. Athleisure. Golden Doodles. Mermaids. Maybe life should be less about square pegs & round holes, and more about making your own shape. Defying category. Because the future is built by butch queens, femme daddies, modern families, strong women, sensitive men, chubby models, sexy feminists, nerdy athletes, driven stoners, friendly exes, lovable weirdos, and sissy little boys who turned their Superman cape into a skirt. I guess some girls aren't meant to fit inside categories. They're meant to break the rules, bust the boxes, burst their bubbles, and dare to live by love, not labels. #CarrieDragshaw

They say your dress should be tight enough to show you’re a woman and loose enough to show you’re a lady. But sometimes it needs to be sexy enough to show you’ve got balls. Because in a city as loud as New York, sometimes your clothes need to do the talking for you. So I picked a dress that said, “I’m more important than your phone” and, “If you don’t treat me right, someone else will.” But did I really believe what my dress was saying? Or was I relying on an outfit to make me feel the way I wished Big would? Maybe love really is like a dove: beautiful and peaceful, until it shits all over you. I couldn’t help but wonder: How much in life do we really control? You can’t pick your family, you can’t change a man, and you can’t force love. But you can pick your outfit. And every day, no matter what’s going on in the world, you decide what to wear. So that night I decided to wear confidence, leave self-doubt and needy dependence in the closet, and accessorize with sexy. Because a freakum dress can’t change the world. But the girl inside it can. #CarrieDragshaw

The sidewalks of New York are full of traffic. But instead of cars we have clothes. Instead of Porsche, Lamborghinis and Little Corvettes we have Prada, Louis Speedies and Fendi Baguettes. But even in a city as crowded as New York, sometimes you walk alone. As I broke free from another break up, I couldn't help but wonder: We spend so much time dating—were we neglecting our most important relationship? We spend all our energy loving purses, dresses, and men—did we have any left to love ourself? What if the secret to being happy in life was hidden on the inside? Maybe self love is like a DIY Gucci purse: It takes a lot of work, and even if it doesn't turn out perfect it still feels fabulous. Because maybe our quirks and flaws make us who we are. After all, the cracks in the ceiling let the light in. The cracks in the sidewalk let the flower grow. And life doesn’t always turn out the way you expect. Sometimes the perfect little black dress…is grey. So I smiled. Because if you can love who you're walking with even when you're walking alone...well that's just fabulous. #CarrieDragshaw

n life, sometimes when you look ahead, all you see is your past. Your future gets crowded with coulda woulda shouldas and maybe-next-time exes. As I stood in the market looking at a sea of foreign spices, I saw something sweet and familiar: Aidan. I couldn’t help but wonder: Inside every confident, forward-looking woman, was a part of her heart looking back wondering “What If?” Maybe life is like a crowded market in Abu Dhabi. It’s more than a little bazaar. You never know what you’re going to find, and there are so many paths it’s easy to get lost. But sometimes, if you have a perfectly cooked meal waiting for you at home, it’s best not to pick up anything at the market. Plus, New Yorkers travel with enough baggage already. Everyone loves adventure, but maybe life’s biggest adventure is loving someone so much you forget the old “What Ifs.” After all, when one Dior closes, another opens. And the other could be Big. #CarrieDragshaw

In New York, if you want to know how the other half lives, you head to the Plaza—the hotel where Chanel got tea, Gatsby got mad, Sinatra got applause…and Big got away. As he drove off with his perfectly simple fiancé, I started thinking about My Other Half. What happens to the girls who never find theirs? Was my heart a half-empty hotel, with a “Big Vacancy” sign on the revolving door? I couldn’t help but wonder: Did some women need to tone down to settle down? Change their shape to find a match, change their soul to find a mate? Or could it be that life isn’t about searching for someone who makes you complete—it’s about realizing you already are. And maybe, just maybe, we’re born with the love we’re meant to find. And if the world says tone it down—turn it up. Because your true other half knows you’re already whole. #CarrieDragshaw

In a city as big as New York, we have more than one of everything. Two baseball teams. Two ballet companies. And three newspapers--each with different readers. Journal readers go to conferences, Times readers go to benefits, and Post readers go to bed with you. And they all wanted to go to Augustine. At the corner of "See" and "Be Seen," Augustine was the Manhattan restaurant of the moment, and since Samantha was running PR for their soft opening we had a hard-to-get table for four. And we had something to celebrate: that magical moment in girl friends' lives when you're all single at the same time. But as I made my way to our overdressed and undersexed table, I couldn't help but wonder: were we like that hot reservation that everyone wanted but no one could get? Or were we that old has-been restaurant that everyone forgot? Extra! Extra! Four single women! Were we hot off the presses or yesterday's news? Whatever we were, we'd be it together #CarrieDragshaw

As I lifted up Le Big Mac, I couldn’t help but wonder: In an era of fast food, cell phones, and speed dates, does romance stand a chance? When the morning story is yesterday’s news by the afternoon, can we really expect love to last? Maybe modern relationships were destined to be like a fast food burger: easy and unhealthy. Love in the Time of Domino’s: Quick, convenient, and leaves you feeling cheap. But I still held out hope that, even in a fast food nation, we could be a fancy French restaurant. In a world of Whoppers, he could be my filet. And maybe, just maybe, in an era of urgent e-mails, we could be a long love letter—best read with a side of fries. #CarrieDragshaw

As I thought back on another night at the Standard, I couldn't help but wonder: is Halloween really any different than a night out in New York? Before we leave the house, we all put on our masks--some to make us look prettier, or stronger, or sexier, or even scarier, harder to reach. But are these masks really disguises--or dreams? And how far are we willing to go to prevent people from seeing who we really are?#CarrieDragshaw

In high school, when you can't find the courage to kiss someone, you play spin the bottle. In adulthood, when you can't find the courage to kiss someone, you download an app. Isn’t it ironic that we leave some of life’s most important decisions to chance? As the soda spun to me, I couldn't help but wonder: Are all our sophisticated dating apps just Spin the Bottle 2.0—with Code instead of Coke? Maybe grown-ups in the 21st Century are just scared high schoolers with better haircuts, hiding behind phones like we once hid behind party games. We poke and swipe and like, too scared to say hello. Because the only thing scarier than love is failing at it. So even when we think we might have matched The One, we keep swiping—running scared from love for another seven minutes in heaven. Twenty years after high school, we'd still rather surrender to fate than risk rejection. As I left the party, i had a revelation from the revolutions. Maybe I'm too old to Spin the Bottle, and it's time to give courage a whirl. After all, the scariest Dare is to live your Truth. #CarrieDragshaw

After heading West for a week of work, I was home. To quote another blonde wanderer, L.A. is too hot—too sunny, too sandy, too supermodelly. San Francisco is too cold—all tech, no talk. And I don’t trust a city where you can’t tell the difference between a billionaire, hipster, or homeless person. All hoodie, no Fendi. All flannel, no Chanel. For this Goldilocks, New York is just right. I couldn’t help but wonder: If my roots are so far away, why do I blossom in New York? I guess not all flowers grow in the sun. Some need the shade of skyscrapers, the ballet of crowded sidewalks, dollar slices in Dior, bodega cats and Birkin bags, MoMA with Monet, sunsets with Lady Liberty, the pleasure of 5th Avenue and the pain of Penn Station and most of all: the people-watching—because we might not have much nature, but we’re overflowing with life. So L.A. can keep its sun and San Francisco can have its screens, because I need magic, and I only bloom in New York. #CarrieDragshaw

Meanwhile back in Manhattan, I was heading to a midtown brunch to debut a midriff top. As I waited to be picked up, I started thinking: On the road to love, some of us are stuck on the sidewalk. Single. But that doesn't have to be sad. When life gives you “meh,” make a-meh-zing. When life gives you crap plaid, make a crop top. And when life gives you "single," make it sensational. I couldn't help but wonder: Is being single the new summer vacation? Hot, steamy, fun and free from responsibility? And in the age of 10,000 Netflix options and a ZipCar on every corner, could singledom—with all its choice, freedom and flexibility—be the ultimate status symbol? After all...Not all Dorothies are lost. Who needs a Tin Man when you have Tom Ford and the Wizard of Ozcar de la Renta? Some Dorothies are just happy explorers in sparkly slippers, skipping from brick to brick with courage, heart and brains. Single by fate. Sexy by nature. Smiling by choice. #CarrieDragshaw

It can be hard out there for a single girl, but there are a few words that provide instant comfort: “Vogue September Issue,” “2-for-1 Cosmopolitans,” “Manolo Blahnik Sample Sale,” and “Perfect First Date Follow-Up.” PFDFU. It's flirty and funny. Easy, breezy, and cool. He's clearly into it and you're like a pair of purple control top pantyhose: fun and holding it all together. It takes you right back to that perfect first date, when the conversation flowed effortlessly, the spark lit instantly, and the first kiss felt like fate. As you flirt on the phone, you float on a cloud that seems to sparkle from the inside, and for a moment you forget your baggage, you forget your past, you forget how many times you’ve felt this feeling before but it failed to last...and you smile. I couldn't help but wonder: Maybe love is like a mobile phone. When you have a good connection, you’ve just got to keep talking and hope for the best. #CarrieDragshaw

My love life had hit a wall—and her name was Natasha. But maybe Charlotte was right. In the story of this affair, I was not the starlet, I was the harlot. I was the “other woman” who had broken up a relationship I knew nothing about. I couldn’t help but wonder: Can you ever really understand someone else? When you’re writing the story of your life, is there only room for one star? Well, sometimes fate throws you into someone else’s movie and you realize the rest of the world is more than your supporting cast. In life, there are no side characters—just stars of different stories. Because if I was so much more than the “other woman,” then I had to admit that Natasha was so much more than my wall. And maybe what was blocking me—was me. #CarrieDragshaw

Letter to 2016 from Carrie Dragshaw: 
As I shut the door on a year when the lows seemed to outnumber the loves, I started thinking about escape. In here, in my tower, I was safe. Out there, dragons roamed—bad taste, bad luck, bad men. Maybe Rapunzel had it right at the start. The world is scary. Just stay home and brush your hair. But as I looked ahead to the New Year, I couldn’t help but wonder: Tomorrow, when the ball drops, can our spirits lift? When it strikes twelve can we start strong? Count down and rise up. Because maybe the best way to fight for love is to spread it. And maybe strong love starts small—a smile on the subway, a hug hello, a text to a friend, a friendly ear. Because these little things add up to life. After all, every castle is just a bunch of bricks in a great outfit. So, Rapunzels, let down your hair and prepare to slay. Because if all us princesses stick together, the dragons don’t stand a chance. #CarrieDragshaw

The universe is full of laws. If you drop an apple from a tree, it will fall. If you heat water to 100 degrees, it will boil. And if you look like sh*t, you will run into your ex. I stood stiff as a headboard on the floor of the furniture expo as my armoire of old boyfriends burst open. To me, Big and Aidan lived in different universes—but here they were, together. Room & Bored meets William Sono-no. Maybe dating is like furniture shopping. You’ve got your comfortable recliners that feel great, but don’t excite you. And you’ve got your sleek designer armchairs, that look great on the showroom floor but cause nothing but pain when you take them home. Is love just an afternoon at Crate & Barrel, choosing between comfortable and exciting? The problem is, you’re never boy-crazy for the La-Z-Boy. And that’s another law of the universe: The head can’t beat the heart. So maybe what you really need is less Pottery, more Barney's. A man that's like a good pink bra: sexy AND supportive. Catches your eye and is there to lift you up. Because this booth b*tch comes "some assembly required." But with the right finish we could be fabulous. #CarrieDragshaw

They say there are two sides to every story. But how many sides are there to every girl? Most women I knew had a sexy side, a silly side, a sassy side, a smart, a serious, a supportive, a strong, and some days even a sad side. As I turned the corner after another night of trying hard to seem less complicated, I couldn’t help but wonder: How much of a woman’s life does she spend pretending? Pretending she's simpler, easier. Do we have to fake it to find true love? Show the lace but hide the leather, show the fur but hide the feathers. Or maybe, just maybe, if he can’t handle your Diesel, then he doesn’t deserve your De La Renta. If he can’t handle your Mimi, then he doesn’t deserve your Mariah. Because Marchesa, Moschino, Versace & Vivienne—they’re all part of this mixed up closet we call “Me.” And Big men have room for them all. So maybe that’s when you know the love is real—when you find someone who doesn’t make you push aside a side. After all, we need our feathers to fly. #CarrieDragshaw

Meanwhile uptown, I was living a teenage dream in a castle on a cloud, high above Central Park. The thing is, when you’re a teenager, you look at adults and see freedom: No Parents. No Rules. But when you’re an adult, you look at teenagers and see freedom: No Bosses. No Bills. I couldn’t help but wonder: When did getting older go from dream to dread? When it comes to growing up, were some of us too chicken to cross the road? Or maybe, every once in a while, you can make the mature adult decision to act like a rebellious adolescent. To serve a giant Kentucky Fried F*ck You to deadlines, diets, dating and the rest of reality. In life, most days you get dressed and conquer the world. So some days you can get stoned and eat from a bucket. You can solve your problems in your Prada mañana. Today, channel your inner Ferris Bueller and put 'em in the f*ck it bucket. Because in a fast-paced city like New York, sometimes you’ve got to hop out of the speedboat and just splash around—even if you might get caught. After all, before a flower can grow, it needs a little pot. #CarrieDragshaw

Was love dead? As I thought back on another broken heart, another painful setback, missed connection, defeat for love--I couldn’t help but wonder: In today’s fast-paced world, does love stand a chance? Or is it just another victim of the changing times, as outdated as bell bottoms and record stores? Some say love is a flower. My garden had been trampled on. But for a flower, a storm isn’t the end. A storm is food. A seed needs more than sunshine to grow. It needs dirt, and rain, and sometimes even darkness. And you plant a garden believing tomorrow will be bright—but you don’t stop there. You water it, and care for it, and do what it takes to help the seeds push through the dirt to see the sun. I wasn’t ready to give up on love. Because maybe the secret to finding love is to just keep loving. Even when you’re told that love is not enough, you just keep loving. And maybe it’s less about finding love and more about growing it. It takes work, and dirt, but one day you blossom and color the world with love. #CarrieDragshaw 

They say home is where the heart is. But what if your heart is broken? Maybe home is where you find the people who will put it back together. Because if you live somewhere long enough, every corner is a reminder of a date, a kiss, a heartache. Every sidewalk hides a land mine of What Ifs, Mistakes and Maybes--Memories of giving your heart to men who didn't deserve it and getting love you didn't know what to do with. As I looked up at my apartment, my little rent-controlled tree house in the concrete jungle, I couldn't help but wonder: Maybe mistakes are what make a house a home. Maybe the secret to a happy, perfectly imperfect life is simply this: As you're giving your heart away, don't forget to keep a little for yourself. It's home. And as another lost girl once said, There's no place like it. #CarrieDragshaw 

Fashion Roadkill (Part 1 of 2) In the fashion world, you listen to Anna Wintour, not Mother Nature. Winter is Fall and Fall is next year. Spring is Cruise and Summer is Couture. As I took the runway for my first New York Fashion Week, I started thinking about courage. Sometimes you have to fake it. You have to strut like a leopard even though you feel like scaredy cat. After all, it was too late to say No now. Maybe courage is like a pair of sparkly underwear: bold, beautiful, but usually covered up. Hidden within because showing your sparkle can be scary. I couldn’t help but wonder: How often did our fear of heights stop us from strapping on life's Monolos? Were we so afraid to fall that we didn’t even step on the runway? 

Fashion Roadkill (Part 2 of 2): It was a *fall* collection no one would forget. As I looked up at the downtown crowd, I started thinking about life. Some say life is a highway. I say it's a runway. And the only thing worse than being fashion roadkill is being too chicken to cross the road. Maybe true courage is being afraid to fall—but stepping on the runway, anyway. After all, sometimes you're the Klum and sometimes you're the klutz, but in the end, it’s better to strut and fall than never to have strut at all. And maybe our stumbles really do make us stronger, and your dreams are waiting for you just on the other side of fear. #CarrieDragshaw

Meanwhile across town, Miranda and I were proving once again that nothing beats the breakup blues like a pink cupcake from Magnolia. As I bit in I couldn't help but wonder: Is love nothing more than a sugar rush? Does it always start out sweet and decadent and then just leave you with a stomach ache? There's a reason they call it Devil's Food. And even if you are lucky enough to trade your cupcake for a wedding cake, are you still destined for a sugar crash? But as I sat there next to Miranda, comfortable in our high-glycemic silence, I had a sweet epiphany: Maybe friends are what really matter, and men are just the icing on the cake. #CarrieDragshaw

In the city of New York, there are over 4 million women. And Big, it seemed, wanted to date them all. Welcome to the Age of Options. Playing the field was the new power suit and monogamy was like last season Prada: outdated and hard to find. I couldn't help but wonder: in a world where the next best thing is just a right swipe away—was exclusivity left to die? Was every modern relationship destined to leave you green with envy, red with anger, or just plain blue? Well, even if polygamy was the new It Bag, just like Skechers and Scrunchies, some trends were not for me. I was looking for all-consuming love. And like we learned in kindergarten, if a boy is making you blue, it's time to pack up your crayons (and your construction paper clutch) and go home. Sure, there were a lot of women in New York, but as a wise one once sang: I'm every woman. It's all in me. And if that's not enough to beat his FOMO, then it's time to walk home solo. Because I'd rather be alone than on the side. And I'd rather be with my girls than be just another one of his. #CarrieDragshaw

Life isn’t always pretty. Sometimes it’s messy, and gritty, and hurtful, and hard. And sometimes it feels like life’s biggest lesson is just how to live with pain. As I took a break from trying to fix my life and instead tried to fix my kitchen, I couldn’t help but wonder: Can you ever really renovate your self? How many coats does it take to paint over pain? And even if it looks like you've gone from drab to fab, will some of us always be fixer-uppers? After all, I have bad hair days and bad mood days. Sometimes I get upset over nothing, and sometimes I feel nothing when I should be upset. I make mistakes. I stay out too late. I drink on an empty stomach and I sneak cigarettes and I let bad people in while I push good ones away. And my biggest fear is that no remodel could really cover up my deepest secret: I’m not perfect. And I have dents and scratches and imperfections that even a fresh coat of paint can’t hide. But just like Beyoncé and Bowie, sometimes the best thing to do is to paint anyway. To paint your face and remodel your self with the Sasha Fierceness you need and the magic Aladdin that'll keep you Sane. It's not faking it. It's making it. And even if you never turn out perfect, it's better to go down painting than sit around waiting for the handyman. Because maybe the one who can fix you, is you. But a side of you you haven't discovered yet. And maybe that's life's ultimate do-it-yourself project. To create your Self. And if we do it together, do-it-yourself won't mean alone. #CarrieDragshaw

Coco Chanel famously said: Before you leave the house, look in the mirror and take one thing off. Not today, Coco. Some days a girl's gotta go extra. Because what if that one thing is what makes it yours? What are we giving up when we're toning down? And when did fitting in become more important than being fabulous? It's been said that New York never sleeps. It's also the city that never shuts up. Construction sites, car alarms, bus stops, bar fights, upstairs neighbors, subway screeches, sirens, pigeons, parties, pigeon parties. Still, I couldn't help but wonder: Is the loudest sound in all of New York the voice inside your head? Thinking too much about what other people think and not enough about what makes you happy. And if we can't even take risks with clothes, what else are we missing out on? Some days you have to say no to Coco and yes to Youyou, look in the mirror, and add one thing: quiet confidence. Because it takes more than feathers, gold, and sparkle to live as loud as New York. #CarrieDragshaw

Meanwhile downtown, as another Pride paraded by, I couldn’t help but wonder: Was I over the rainbow? After all, if your days are out and proud, did you really need a month? Was it time for me to drop Roy G. and break up with Mr. Biv? But, I thought: Maybe Pride isn’t for Me. Maybe it’s for We. Maybe it's for all the misters & sisters under our rainbow living far from equal... maybe it's for the kings, queens & in-betweens too afraid to be proud... pressured to paint over their true colors. Maybe it shouldn't take bravery just to be yourself. Because whether you’re in a club or a closet, you have to wonder: What would the world be like if we didn’t waste energy on shame? If no one spent a second thinking their truth would leave them abandoned and alone? Thankfully, we G’s & L’s & Q’s & B’s & T’s & TBD’s…we all have scars in the same places. So we decided to start a family. Like all families we sometimes fight, but more often we love. Because it’s not always easy living outside their narrow minds. But it’s better together. So we come out, sing out, dance hard, hug strong, stand tall, flags high, reach higher, live fully, breathe deep, love deeper, love wider and love louder. So that what they hear—louder than hate, ignorance, conformity, or fear—is pride. #CarrieDragshaw
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In the middle, loud and proud, Carrie's wearing a T from @marcjacobs Proceeds from this T benefit New York City's LGBT Community Center, a place very close to my heart @lgbtcenternyc. The photo on the T was taken by @nathanperkel at the 2017 Stonewall protests. Live out & love hard, my darlings.

Maybe men are like rain drops: unpredictable and annoying. As Petrovsky rained on my Paris parade, I started thinking about the stormy weather in my love life. I couldn’t help but wonder: Did every relationship go through good weather and bad? Or was our relationship like a cobblestone road—charming, but a little too bumpy? A wise redhead once said: the sun will come out tomorrow. But sometimes you have to part the clouds yourself. Instead of waiting for Captain Planet, you have to play Mother Nature. After all, a little sunshine can stop a shit storm. Because, like Paris, Petrovsky was romantic and sophisticated—but just not right for me. And that’s OK. Maybe storms are what help you grow before you blossom in the sun. In the meantime, grab your umbrella, put some polka in your dots and dance in the rain. #CarrieDragshaw

There’s no better city in the world than New York in the spring. Long lazy picnics in Central Park, farmer’s market pretzels in Union Square, freshly planted tulips on Park Avenue. And as flowers bloom, fashion blossoms. Daisies & Dior. Lilies & Lanvin. Gladiolus & Galliano. As I looked at all the flowers opening up, I couldn’t help but wonder: Maybe I could, too. Maybe I could let my heart out of hibernation and open myself up to love. After all, seasons change. Can people? With a spring in my step, I was frozen no more. And the best part is: When your heart blooms, you don’t even have to stop to smell the roses. The flowers follow you. And that’s just fabulous. Because even a New Yorker needs a little nature. #CarrieDragshaw

They say life's a journey, not a destination. I guess that's why us girls need so many bags. As I stepped into another new relationship, I started thinking about baggage. We all have it. We might try to dress it up in Louis Vuitton luggage or squeeze it into a cute little fanny pack—but even fake Gucci carries real emotions. I couldn't help but wonder: If everyone has baggage, why do we try so hard to hide it? And if we're so comfortable baring our skin, why do we hide our hearts? Maybe true love comes when someone sees it all (even the ugly duffle you hide under your bed) and loves you anyway. Someone who loves you more the more they see. Who sees you when you’re scared, anxious, angry, or even just sad, and sticks around to make sure you learn to love your authentic self and never try to be anything else. To make sure you love you as much as they do. And to make sure your shoes always, always match your baggage. #CarrieDragshaw 

It can be scary to be alone with your thoughts. Table for one, Fettuccine Afraid-o. Dessert? No Sor-bae, just Tirami-so-lonely. As I sat dejected at my empty birthday party, I started thinking about thinking. Why was the voice inside our head so often negative? We beat ourselves up over imperfections, focus too much on our flaws, compare & despair with the ones who are already married, always skinny, also rich, or almost perfect. I couldn't help but wonder: Did I need to break up with the voice inside my head? If my inner monologue were a pasta at Il Cantinori, would I send it back for being cold and salty? That birthday I didn't make a wish, I made a promise: to love myself more. To make my inner voice less like an emotionally abusive boyfriend and more like a totally supportive best friend, or an optimistic grandma: building you up, encouraging you to try new things, reminding you how pretty you are without makeup and telling you to have that second slice of cake. Because life's your party and you can cry if you want to... but you can smile if you try to. So maybe alone isn't such a bad way to spend your birthday. After all, the most exciting, challenging, significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find a way to love yourself more—well that's the greatest birthday gift of all. #CarrieDragshaw

There I was, on the newsstand next to Vanity Fair looking Condé Nasty. Is there anything scarier to society than a single woman? There's a reason why RomComs always end in marriage, and TV shows turn sexy singles into happy couples. Hell, even the song "Single Ladies" is about getting a wedding ring. I couldn't help but wonder: Was it humanly possible to be Single and Fabulous? What is Fabulous, anyway? And who gets to decide? Maybe if you're truly fabulous, you decide for yourself. You don't march to the beat of their drum—you dance to the beat of your heart. After all, you can't light your fire off of someone else's spark. Being single doesn't mean you're broken. Being married doesn't mean you're fixed. And being fabulous has nothing to do with a man. You can be Single and Fabulous. Dating and Fabulous. Dumped and Fabulous. You can be Married and Fabulous. Divorced and Fabulous. Consciously Uncoupled and Fabulous. Because You are what makes you fabulous. And that's fabulous. Exclamation point. #CarrieDragshaw

Can you ever really move on from an ex? That night, as I took off my soaking wet $400 shoes, I couldn't stop thinking about the stains and damage of our failed love lives. I wondered, Were ex-boyfriends like the puddles of bad break-ups? Just when you think the storm is over, they splash on your new Manolos? After another messy night with Big, maybe I had to do a better job of keeping myself dry. After all, only children jump in puddles. Adults buy umbrellas. And maybe, just maybe, if you skip around enough puddles, there's a great big rainbow waiting on the other side. #CarrieDragshaw

When most people talk about seasons, they talk about the weather. When New Yorkers talk about seasons, it's all about the fashion. And what's hot changes faster than the temperature. One week it's pastels at Pastis. The next it's Balenciaga at Balzac. I couldn't help but wonder: In a city like New York, did we change men like we changed trends? Was love as fickle as the fall lines? As I tried out a new lunch spot and a new look, I realized there is one relationship that always lasts. No matter what hairstyle is in, what bag is "it," it's all best accessorized with a best friend. Someone who always listens and somehow hears you even when you’re silent, who laughs when you laugh and somehow makes you smile even when you're crying, who helps you pick out the perfect first date outfit (and the perfect break-up ice cream). Someone who knows you're crazy and loves you anyway, who loves you like crazy until you learn to love yourself, and who tells you, in all honesty, that hat does look weird. Someone who makes sure you never, ever, ever walk alone—or in the wrong shoes. It's nice to know that even in the city that never stops changing, one love always stays the same. Nights turn into mornings and then become memories, clothes turn into trends and then become regrets, men turn into boyfriends and then become baggage—but best friends simply stay and grow into soulmates. And what's even better is that through it all, from Juicy tracksuits to fishnet maxis, "soulmate" never goes out of style. #CarrieDragshaw

It can be scary to leave your comfort zone. To trade your trusty habits in hopes for a little magic. Before Samantha's party, the only S&M that I knew about was Saks & MasterCard (and Stillettos & Manolos, Stella & Miuccia, Schiaparelli & McQueen...) But after my attempted dominatrix was just a dud in latex, I left Big's in 50 Shades of Shame. S&M? Self-conscious & Mortified. I couldn't help but wonder: Do men really want a strong woman—or when we flex our muscles, are they afraid to lose their power? And fetish or no fetish, how much pain was one woman expected to take before she disappeared? Some people get off on pain. But most get out. How much rejection before she retreated to her comfort zone, wondering, Was I too bold, too out there, too this, too that, too much? As I put my whip away for good, I started thinking about the circus. The loud lion is the one who gets whipped. Even so, I think I'd rather be the lion who roared. Because maybe it's better to give your all and get hurt, than to play tame and wonder "What If?" Because I am no cowardly lion. I am woman. And through it all—tears, setbacks, scared men and masked pain—we keep roaring. #CarrieDragshaw

Dating in the Digital Age: A Ghost(ed) Story New York can be a scary place: angry bouncers & snooty baristas, glamazon models & trust fund club kids, subway rats & subway gropers. But, by far, the scariest figure in all of Manhattan is: The Ghost. The guy who acts interested and then just disappears. Instead of "Boo!", this ghost says...nothing at all. No balls (but still a dick). Leaving the ghosted woman to wonder, Why didn't he text back? What did I do wrong? What's wrong with me? The 7 Stages of Ghosted Grief go something like this: 1) Shock & Denial (He'll text back. Maybe he's just at the gym?) 2) Pain & Guilt (Why did I tell that stupid story!) 3) Anger & Bargaining (I can do better than him anyway!) 4) Depression & Reflection (I'm broken and I'm going to die alone. I wonder: In an age of bots, swipes, and texts, is honest communication as old-fashioned as a newsboy cap? Is open dialogue as out of place as an oversized tie on a little black dress?) But then come stages 5, 6 & 7, which, for me, are Samantha, Miranda & Charlotte. You need your most fabulous friends to perform an exorcism. After all, you can ghost the ghost. Erase him from your memory and free up space for all the good stuff. Replace his ghost with The Phantom of the Oprah and have yourself an A-Ha Moment: Ghosts aren't really scary. They're scared. And you should never let a dead text stop you from living your best life. #CarrieDragshaw 

You never feel more like a New Yorker than when you leave New York. As I hopped onto the flat bed truck to try to convince everyone at the wedding that I wasn’t a drag queen, I realized that my most unusual characteristic wasn’t my size 14 heels. It was my RSVP of 1. The single girl from the city—exotic or tragic, depending on who you asked. I wondered: Was I the last single adult in America? Not only was New York all coupled up, but even the kids I used to babysit for had husbands. They say love is blind. But if love was so easy to find, then maybe I was the blind one. And as I looked around, Love wasn’t some heroic gesture. Love was having someone to point out the stain on your tie before anyone else noticed. Love was someone to steal you from the smoke patio when a slow song came on. It was someone who knew what flavor cupcake you wanted before you even knew there were cupcakes. For now, I’d have to get my own dessert. But even if I was the only one driving down this road alone—I still liked the company. #CarrieDragshaw