I swear, I didn't set out to emulate Charlotte York Goldenblatt. I really didn't. Not only is she a fictional character - something that I find really gets in the way of my attempts to live in reality - but I don't actually envy her life from Sex and the City. Sure, she ends up with the fairytale in the end, but let's not forget the breakup of her first marriage, her experience with Brad the bad kisser, or that amazing stinkeye she gives to Big after he leaves Carrie at the altar.
But here's the thing: I actually did grow up in Connecticut. I have a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel (although her name is not Elizabeth Taylor). I married a Jewish man and, yes, I also converted to Judaism. And it wasn't until a few days after my surgery that I realized - oh no. I'm like Charlotte in one more way, too.
I can't do anything about where I was born, and I chose my dog because I wanted a canine companion that would stay within the weight requirement of my apartment lease and have a gentle enough disposition to get along with my older, set-in-his-ways cat. The Judaism thing came as a bit of a surprise even to me - but then I've always loved to study religion, and it was the right choice for me, even if I do feel like people sometimes assume I converted to please my husband. (For the record, he was quite pleased, but never once did he do or say anything that could be interpreted as pushing me into it.) And infertility, well... no one plans this.
However. It could be worse. I've always rather liked the name Charlotte, and if I someday end up baking with my two daughters in a fancy New York kitchen, I promise to be really grateful for my couture clothing and my Irish nanny. Oh, and hey, infertility? I curse the day you were born!
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