Modern Love

My Own Mr Big

In the search for a lead male role?

Jane Mean

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The main cast of SATC lying on a bed.
Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction. Names, characters, events and activities of specific individuals are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead or undead, or real events is purely coincidental. Photo creds.

“You sound like Carrie Bradshaw when you write,”. I gulp and try to smile politely. “You know, from Sex and the City? Played by Sarah Jessica Parker?”. My face must look confused rather than uncomfortable since I am provided with the explanation, though I’ve watched (and rewatched) SATC, as mentioned in my very first article. “Yeah, I know who you mean, haha, thanks.”. Not being sure it’s a compliment, I decide to take it as one. I mean, I’d rather sound like myself to be very honest, but don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, I guess.

Carrie led a much more thrilling life than my own. Firstly, it’s New York, so romantic (mis)adventures are as expected as subway delays, while my attitude to love is similar to the one I have to solving a Rubik’s cube: always a bit puzzled and looking for that elusive right angle. Secondly, it’s not called The Big Apple for no reason — the sheer size of it gives you a sense of anonymity, unlike the city in which I live, where people seem to have more information about my life than I do.

Thirdly, Carrie’s swirling romances, combined with those of her three best friends, turn my what-is-nowadays-called “conservative” love life into a museum exhibit, complete with a sign that says, “Caution: Rarely Seen Relics of Romance.”
I will also seize this opportunity, to send out a casting call for the role of Samantha in my life. The bubble of friends I live with seems to be stuck on their couches, either (f)lying solo or snuggled up with their long-term partners, indulging in Harry Potter marathons on a Friday night.

Carrie’s (and SATC’s) underlying theme throughout the 94 episodes split into 6 seasons and 2 subsequent movies (boy that’s a lot of screen time) is the relationship with Mr Big — how they met, the many fallouts, even more get-back-togethers, people and connections that came and went in the meantime, commitment issues and getting cold feet, but in the end, it always came back to them — and Him.

All aside, they’re a good-looking couple, aren’t they? Photo creds.

And I cannot help but wonder (yeah, I see it now) — do I have a Mr Big? And more importantly, do I need one? In my writing?

I mean, I can always concoct a character, since as the disclaimer says (whose fault is it that you never read it)— all my writing is a work of pure fiction. My Mr Big can be an amalgam of traits from all the men I know, with attributes that will make Him quite attractive yet just the right amount of “damaged” and unavailable to keep things fun and a tad unpredictable.

He can be a more mature, brooding ex, a bit dark in the sense that he always seems like he’s holding something back, but you can’t put your finger on what. There can be a sufficient backstory as to make Him seem like the perfect candidate for Mr Big. Despite the familiarity, His childhood is only mentioned but never fully discussed, to make you wonder about the childhood issues He’s had or the way He was raised. He can pop up with a text or a call, an occasional invite for lunch or drinks. Always there but never fully, the kind of Him I can lean on but can’t be quite sure if He’ll catch me when I fall. Tall and quiet, never the centre of the party, but always present in the background.

He can also be a younger, energetic one, optimistic and full of life. Quite standardly good-looking and well-mannered. Considered a flirt by His general surroundings and the wider area, He feels He knows what to do and how to do it right. Persistent and seemingly reliable, He knows what to say to people (I’m people) as if He was born with a manual in His right hand, and a mirror in His left (His hair always looks perfect). He likes the chase and is never discouraged, determined to beat any other guy in the vicinity simply by being better at what (He thinks) is understanding women. And even though, in the words of the great Shania Twain, that don’t impress me much, will He surprise?

Or, it can be a situationship that starts as a naïve rebound which turns complicated but never really goes on. Cute and (subjectively) handsome, this Mr Big scores 6/8 in the Eight Common Fears That Men Have of Making a Commitment. Prefers texting over calls (hence, never does) so he doesn’t feel pressured when communicating and has sufficient time to phrase a response that doesn’t freak him out. Camouflages his insecurities by looking totally uninterested and is only comfortable when no real feelings are involved. If God forbid, something gets out of the box which he keeps locked and buried, he runs for the hills only to reappear at a later time when he feels *chill* (and emotionally distant) enough. In all of it, though, there is a bizarre connection that keeps Him (& me) returning to the same vortex, much like a well-scripted sitcom plot twist that you don’t see coming but always does.

Or He can be the workaholic one who is devoted to His job way too much to make the proper time and invest enough in someone else to make it last. Or the self-destructive one that thinks He deserves no good things in life. Or the one concerned with living life on an agenda so everything feels predetermined and as if He’s already decided what *I* will be doing 10 years from now. Or the funny but depressed one. Or each-article-a-new-one.

But, do I, as a wannabe writer (and a girl), really need that? Does there need to be some “drama” to make my articles fun to read? Do I need to include a male figure to make my writing interesting and my stories worth sharing? Do I also need to be selling and propelling the concept of one true love to keep moving forward, and putting click-bait titles to get you to read me? Regardless of how I feel in reality?

Because truth be told, I’ve never looked for my “other half”. I don’t consider myself a half to begin with, let alone be in search of someone to complete me. I’m a whole person — we all are. We need connections to survive as a species that is social and has ‘love & belonging’ on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, but we do choose how and who to get that from, and it’s not necessarily from romantic involvements.

I’ve never needed a Mr Big — my life with everything in it is already a handful to deal with without there being a need for an additional Him to take care of or plan my time with. But I’ve wanted Him. And I’ve chosen Him. And I’ll always choose being a choice to a need.

I don’t want to be a need — needs are something people have little control over, like food or sleep. But I do want to be a choice — someone that my Mr Big chooses to share moments with, chooses to complain to, chooses to sit in silence with. Destiny might sound romantic, but I’d take a person’s free will over it like a painter chooses colours for their masterpiece — life’s canvas is more vibrant when we wield the brush ourselves.

However, I’m writing here, in the open, so people can read or listen to what I have to say, maybe relate to it, and hopefully take something away from it. So please — feel free to let me know if you want a Mr Big, and if so, which one? Who is that character that is going to make all the difference in the way I write and what I write about? Which Mr Big does Jane choose, and who keeps choosing her in return? I gave you several ideas above — you can choose from those, or propose a different one, I’ll wait. In the meantime, (I hope) I’ll keep on writing as (I hope) you will keep on reading. Just know that, though some stories may include one Mr Big or another, they will always be featuring the one character who’s been here all along – me.

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Jane Mean

Breaking glass ceilings by day and her own heart by night, her weapon of choice is sass and she drinks her fuel from a crystal glass. A friend wrote her bio.