Carrie Brokeamateurs [ TOP-RATED ]

I’m still an amateur at life. I still buy the fancy cheese sometimes when I definitely shouldn't. But I’m no longer pretending.

But here’s the truth they don’t put in the montages:

So, I broke the amateur. I killed "Carrie." carrie brokeamateurs

There is a specific shame in being a "broke amateur" when you’ve spent years pretending to be a pro. You look around at your friends buying starter homes and maxing out their 401ks, and you’re here, trying to decide if you can return a candle to Anthropologie for store credit to buy cat food.

I learned that the hard way.

If you had told me two years ago that I would be typing this from a cramped studio apartment, eating ramen with a plastic fork, I would have laughed in your face. Not because I was rich, but because I was a master of the illusion.

If you are out there, wearing the costume of "I’ve got it together" while drowning in overdraft fees, I see you. I’m still an amateur at life

I was the queen of "faking it till I make it." Designer bags (rented), bottomless brunches (split seven ways), and a social calendar so full it could have been a diplomatic tour. To the outside world, Carrie Bradshaw was my spirit animal. Heels on the pavement, a witty quip for every crisis, and a closet that screamed "effortless."