Carrie vs. Candace
On Being both the Moment and the Maintenance
I opened TikTok this morning to a girl showcasing her 5AM routine before she starts work at 9.
Scroll.
Come with me to Pilates.
Scroll.
Here’s the three healthy meals I ate in a day to lose 50 pounds in four months.
Scroll.
The new perfect jeans and tee combo you need to look just like Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy.
Scroll.
Here’s how to retire at 40.
Scroll.
10 books I read in February.
How? Scroll.
Three things I said in the interview to get a high paying job with no experience.
[even though you didn’t get the interview and you do have the experience].
HEAVY on the SCROLL.
Here’s how I cut my screen time in half.
DAMN IT!
I already broke my new rule — I’m not supposed to scroll for the first hour of my day.
Before everyone started documenting their perfectly curated lives online, we watched Carrie Bradshaw typing in her apartment before brunch every weekend and Andie Sachs power walk through NYC with Chanel pearls and perfectly ruffled bangs. Almost every 2000s movie had an “IT girl” montage set to the newest perfectly upbeat pop song. The girl always had the perfect job, the perfect outfit and the perfect home in the perfect city.
And in the words of Elle Woods, “What, like it’s hard?”
Yes, Elle.
Yes, it is.
Or at least it can be.
The girls on social media don’t show the weeks that their screen time creeps back up to eight hours a day. They don’t show the mornings they sleep until they only have time to roll out of bed, make coffee and log into work at 9. Just like the movies never showed the main character missing the train. Or sleeping in the hospital chair all night while taking care of a sick parent.
I’m here to tell you something no montage ever shows:
Being the main character is exhausting.
This morning I got out of bed and immediately made it — because someone somewhere once said that’s what CEOs do. I think. Plus, if I don’t make it, I’m liable to get back in it. I put on biker shorts and a sports bra because I’m determined to lose the twenty pounds I gained while taking care of my dad… and the twenty pounds I was supposed to lose before he even got sick. When I’ve gotten dressed and eaten my breakfast, I sit at the table poolside to write. That would be a nice opening scene, right? It is, but that doesn’t make it less true. My life a highlight reel at times and sometimes it’s a shitshow.
Being the Carrie just means you’re responsible for the narrative. It all revolves around you. No one is writing the story for you. So the question becomes: Who is the Candace?
The answer is you… by the way.
When my dad was sick, I handled everything — his medications, his appointments, his bills. I took calls from his lawyers, his doctors, the nurses, his friends. I had to fill out paperwork. I met deadlines. I solved problems. Without fail.
Before that, I thought I was a procrastinator. I thought I was bad at staying on top of things. I thought I was someone life just happened to instead of someone who made things happen.
Caring for my dad showed me something I guess I should’ve known. I’m incredibly organized. I’m a good negotiator. I’m great under pressure. Which made sense. I had been doing these exact things professionally for more than a decade.
For some reason, I didn’t apply them to my personal life.
The problem wasn’t discipline. It was perspective. I didn’t just need to be the main character. I needed to start writing the main character.
At the end of last year, I sat down and wrote out what I wanted my life to look like next. I made a list of goals. I turned them into SMART goals — specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, and time-bound. I roughly mapped out the first quarter of the year. Every night I make a to-do list for the next day, because some people do drugs. Me? I get high off checking things off of my list. At the end of every month, I celebrate my milestones. I remind myself that the minuscule, mundane things I do every day are what move the story forward.
Main character energy isn’t just cinematic. It’s spreadsheets. Sometimes it’s bottles of wine with your friends and steak dinners with your man. Sometimes it’s weekly meal menus, habit trackers, and doctor’s appointments.
Does all of this sound like a lot? Yes. And it is.
But, hello — I’m the main character. I’m supposed to be a lot. I’m the whole damn reason this show is on air.
It may be overwhelming sometimes. It may even be tiring. But so is having kids. And I’m going to tell you the same thing you tell us when we ask why you’re having another after the first one almost took you out: It’s incredibly rewarding.
That’s not me being an asshole. It means I understand.
Creating the life I want, more intentionally, is meaningful and powerful. Tracking my growth and watching everything slowly take shape is satisfying. Becoming the woman my loved ones always knew I would be, even when I didn’t see it myself, isn’t something I take lightly.
While writing this, I couldn’t help but wonder: What actually separates me from Carrie Bradshaw?
Nothing.
I don’t think she was unrealistic after all. They, like the influencers of today, show the highlight reel. We see the montage, not the rehearsal. And trust me, there’s a lot of rehearsal.
I’ve been motivated to share my life experiences in creative ways by people close to me. I’ve been a storyteller my entire life and now I’m putting some structure to it and seeing it play out. My goal is not to share the highlights alone but to show that I am a Type B personality with a Type A brain — sometimes. So when you scroll past my videos where I’ve dropped ten pounds or finished my certification or written for a major publication, just know there were days I woke up and scrolled for an hour first. Instead of deciding I’d failed the plan and would start again next week, I got up and started later that day. And you will see that, too, because it’s a part of the story.
It’s true I was born the main character, but I’ve become the author too.
And as a writer…
I love that for me.