https://nypost.com/2018/06/02/dating-columnist-reveals-how-sex-and-the-city-ruined-her-life/

Strap yourselves in.

I was considered by many to be Carrie Bradshaw 2.0. And I was happy to be given that identity for a while, but it was all a lie. At the premiere, I also felt like a fraud, insecure and embarrassed — like I didn’t belong.

I grew up a nerd in Chicago, more likely to duck into the library than talk to other kids at recess. At 12, I thought I would never be kissed. (Boy, did I make up for that later.)

I was a rising high-school senior when “Sex and the City” debuted in 1998, and I was instantly enthralled. I wanted to be like Carrie and her friends: I wanted to be glamorous and beautiful and dress well and have lots of dates. I realized I didn’t have to be a geek anymore. I could reinvent myself.

The show was my road map. Of all the die-hard fans I knew, I was the most influenced by “SATC.” At Georgetown University, where I enrolled in 1999, I started to wear dresses and learned how to do my makeup and curl my hair. The newfound male attention I received felt exhilarating.

When that paper finally hired me, I made $50 per weekly column. I later moved to Time Out New York, where I made $750 a week — a huge improvement, but still not enough to buy Manolos and barely enough to afford the $2,500 rent for my 400-square-foot apartment in Hell’s Kitchen.

I lived on food bought for me on dates and the occasional bodega tuna sandwich. For clothes, it was wrap dresses from Diane von Furstenberg sample sales combined with loans from designers who took pity on me — like Betsey Johnson, who I’d interviewed at Fashion Week. Different men I dated gave me YSL shoes and status purses, just like Big did for Carrie on “SATC.” (In 2006, when I landed a six-figure editor-at-large gig at Star magazine, I finally felt more at ease with my finances.)

I went out with a prince: Lorenzo Borghese from “The Bachelor.” I even dated the British ex-boyfriend of “Sex and the City” creator Candace Bushnell — the original Carrie. He was one of a few men who comprised the composite character Mr. Big.

In 2008, my two best girlfriends and I had just filmed a Bravo pilot for a show called “It Girls” (it wasn’t picked up). We were all invited by a 40-something billionaire to his Miami mansion; he even sent his private jet for us. It was just him, the three of us and his butler and chef. I don’t think this man was used to being told no, and he started chasing me around his mansion. I finally had to lock myself in the bathroom. The worst part: He sent us back on JetBlue.

Finally, I cut my ties to New York and moved to San Francisco full time in 2013. I tried being a tech columnist and writing a personal-growth book called the “Experiments in Happiness.” Finally, I decided to go private for a while. I stopped blogging and writing. I rarely post on Instagram.

Last year, I ended a two-year relationship with a man who ultimately couldn’t commit and wanted to be polyamorous. Again, “SATC” and the “lessons” it taught me, is the culprit. The show wasn’t a rubric on how to find a lifelong partnership. If I was more grounded and had honestly assessed whether or not this man was a good partner for me, I don’t think we ever would have dated.

I do wonder what my life would have looked like if “Sex and the City” had never come across my consciousness. Perhaps I’d be married with children now? Who knows, but I can say for sure that, as clever and aesthetically pleasing as the show was — and, as much as I agree with its value of female friendships — it showed too much consumerism and fear of intimacy disguised as empowerment.

It’s like candy: in the moment it feels good to eat it but, afterward, you feel sick. Who you’re dating, what you’re wearing, or how good you look at that premiere — none of that s - - t matters unless you genuinely love yourself. Solid relationships are what really matter.

I want to be a different role model from the one I got. Two months ago, I started seeing someone I never would have dated 10 years earlier. Back then, I wasn’t looking to get married or seek a lifelong partner, and that was a mistake. This man is a very reasonable choice, and I’m at a place in my life where reasonable is very sexy.

I’ve put away the pink party dress. The designer shoes and bags are in storage. Now, I feel like genuine me — I’m no longer a Carrie Bradshaw knockoff.

Q4BP: What is your most charitable interpretation of this:

Two months ago, I started seeing someone I never would have dated 10 years earlier. Back then, I wasn’t looking to get married or seek a lifelong partner, and that was a mistake. This man is a very reasonable choice, and I’m at a place in my life where reasonable is very sexy.

Q4All: Do we shower women with messages of consumerism and fear of intimacy disgusted as empowerment?

Q4All: Do we hold multiple casual partners on a pedestal of empowerment while considering monogamy retrograde?

General discussion.