Remember when we all labeled ourselves as characters from Sex and the City? For the Gen Z readers who may've missed this cultural trend, being labeled "the Miranda" of a friend group had a total negative connotation. Translation: It meant you were brash, un-dateable and lacking chic style.
This explains why, for the first 23 years of my life, I identified as a Charlotte (played by Kristin Davis). My formative years were filled with pearls, headbands, Chanel knockoffs and the desire to marry a rich lawyer or doctor. However, as I got older, I realized that I wanted more than an Upper East Side apartment and a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel to call a sidekick.
So, I threw myself into my career—which included a brief stint in public relations—and realized that I love to work. Waking up and doing my job every day feeds my soul. No, really. It does.
Of course, Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), Samantha (Kim Cattrall) and Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) were all career-driven women, so this didn't necessarily help me place myself in one category over another. Instead, it was my post-college interactions with friends and significant others that helped me realize my truth: I am a Miranda, and proudly so.
Miranda didn't always have the best bedside manner ("He's just not that into you," she once told a group of strangers, "So, move on") but she's never afraid to keep it real. Who could forget the time when Miranda ripped into Carrie for agreeing to have lunch with Big (Chris Noth)? I certainly haven't, because I've done something similar.
Much like Miranda in that season three scene, I once found myself frustrated by a friend's constant backsliding with a toxic ex. It had been years of on-again, off-again behavior and I just couldn't hear about it anymore. So, I chose to rattle off all the red flags the suitor had exhibited in their topsy-turvy relationship.
And, as if I were channeling the red-headed lawyer herself, I presented my argument ferociously and loudly—much to the disdain of my friend. In hindsight, I should've kept my opinions to myself and let my friend experience her own romantic journey. Yet, at the time, I thought I was being a loyal friend by giving her some tough love.
It was after this encounter that I had my Miranda revelation, which had me seeing the harshly criticized character in a new light. No, Miranda isn't perfect, but she's a pit bull for her friends, quick-witted, forward thinking and unapologetically herself.
Though I have tried to soften my delivery over the years, I refuse to abandon my fiercely loyal, tell-it-like-it-is persona—and I hope other Mirandas feel the same way.
For more of Miranda and company, watch the first two episodes of And Just Like That... on HBO Max now.