And Just Like That… I’m Saying Goodbye 🖤

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Hello my beautiful world. 🌆✨

It’s been four days since the last episode of And Just Like That, and three days since Sarah Jessica Parker confirmed what none of us wanted to hear: the show is over.

And I feel sad about that.

I grew up with Sex and the City. Like many girls, I was watching it way too young—middle school, small-town Georgia, sneaking into the living room while my parents were tucked away in their room. The show was taboo. I had no business watching it. But it was the most fabulous thing I’d ever seen. It was electric. It was a portal.

It awakened my fashion dreams. Suddenly, clothes weren’t just for dressing—they were for expressing. I learned that fashion wasn’t to be taken seriously… it was meant to reflect your mood, amplify your voice, and invite a little magic.

It also cracked open my curiosity about humanity. I was raised in a traditional home, protected, bubbled. But here were these four women living wildly different, deeply honest, sometimes messy lives. It showed me that life isn’t linear. That there isn’t just one way to be a woman. It was the first time I realized how big the world really was.

After six unforgettable seasons and two magical movies, we finally got our girls back. When And Just Like That was announced, I was giddy. But something felt… clouded. The title had changed. Why not continue with Sex and the City?

But for us SATC-obsessed viewers who’ve rewatched the series endlessly, the phrase “And just like that…” is practically scripture. It’s woven into Carrie’s voiceovers. It’s part of the DNA.

And then… the show aired. And TikTok tore it apart. Critics weren’t kind.

But these are my girls.

Without spoilers, let’s just say my main girl went through a trauma in Season 1 that would knock any of us off our Manolos. It was rocky. We were lost. But we were trying. Trying to find life again. Trying to remember who we were.

And while we stumbled, we did it in style. And we grew.

By Season 3, the groove was returning. “Stella was getting her groove back.”

Carrie was finally choosing herself. Aidan got shown the door—not because he was bad, but because she’d learned not to settle for less than 100%. And women like me? We needed to see that.

She was writing again. She made a stuck-up man crumble at her heels.

She was Carrie.

And just like that… it’s over. 💔

SJP has put Carrie to rest. And those of us who grew with her—who found ourselves in the tulle, the heartbreak, the soul-searching monologues—we’re left with reruns, inspiration, and a little ache in our hearts.

But we’re not done.

The fashion still swoons. The quotes still echo. And the truth remains:

No matter how cheesy, ridiculous, or senseless life gets—

We keep going.

We keep dressing up.

We keep laughing.

We keep loving.

We keep living.

We live our own version of Sex and the City, in whatever form it takes.

Because the magic wasn’t just in the show.

The magic was in us all along.

By Diana Arvizu