Spoiler alert: This article contains minor spoilers for “Sex and the City” and “And Just Like That.”
As a self-proclaimed feminist and avid television watcher, “Sex and the City” is one of my all-time favorite binge-watches. The show captures everything I love — fashion, female friendship, New York City, romance and most importantly, female empowerment. I’ve always appreciated what “Sex and the City” brought to pop culture: a heartwarming and comedic series that challenged — and even helped desensitize — how people view women and sex.
However, there’s one glaring flaw in this otherwise iconic show that undermines its female-forward message: Mr. Big.
Now, I’m not saying Mr. Big shouldn’t have been a character — his frustrating nature added drama and complexity — but the decision to make him Carrie’s endgame felt like a betrayal of the show’s core values. After six glorious seasons of growth and empowerment, Carrie ending up with the ultimate narcissist was, frankly, embarrassing. From the endless gaslighting to his bloated ego, here’s why Mr. Big was the absolute worst boyfriend Carrie ever had.
There are so many red flags in Mr. Big’s behavior that it’s hard to know where to start. But his biggest crime (pun intended) was abandoning Carrie on their wedding day. After years of being hot and cold, he finally proposed to her in the first “Sex and the City” movie — at the ripe age of 45. And still, after everything, he bailed on her the morning of their wedding. This moment summed up exactly how little respect Big had for Carrie. After nearly a decade of love, forgiveness, and emotional investment, he didn’t even have the decency to be honest. He didn’t care about humiliating her. Why? Because he was a man-baby who always did what was best for himself.
Mr. Big’s narcissistic tendencies were evident from the very beginning. In season two, he casually mentioned he might have to move to Paris for work — not in a thoughtful conversation with his girlfriend of nearly a year, but as an afterthought when she brought up sharing a house in The Hamptons, New York. Carrie was never factored into his major life decisions, and when she reacted emotionally, the narrative made her look like the overbearing, “crazy” girlfriend. Whether intentional or not, the show often leaned into this angle: Big as the misunderstood man, and Carrie as the emotional wreck.
And while yes, Carrie can be unhinged (that’s a whole other article), she often didn’t stand up for herself enough when it came to Big. She was so in love, so mystified by him, that she constantly made excuses for his behavior. Worse, he never truly apologized or took accountability. What worries me is the message that sends: that it’s okay — normal, even — for women to bend over backwards for emotionally unavailable men, and that someday they’ll come around and love you properly. Spoiler alert: they usually don’t.
At his core, Mr. Big was a textbook narcissist with commitment issues. Because of his status, charm, and looks, he knew he could string women along without consequences. That’s exactly what he did to Carrie. She wanted real love, marriage and partnership. He wanted to stay in control. Sure, he eventually gave her what she wanted, and they stayed married until his death in “And Just Like That” — but at what cost? Carrie constantly put his needs first, while he barely gave her a second thought until the series finale when he conveniently realized he loved her all along.
Despite all the red flags — ghosting, gaslighting and emotional neglect — Carrie and Big were still framed as “The It Couple.” Of “Sex and the City,” they were the Ross and Rachel from “Friends,” the Nick and Jess from “New Girl” and the Haley and Nathan from “https://One Tree Hill” But what kind of message does that send to young, impressionable viewers? That it’s okay to go back to your toxic ex the minute he validates you? That love means enduring years of mistreatment and hoping for a fairytale ending?
I love “Sex and the City” for many reasons, but Mr. Big’s redemption arc isn’t one of them. It’s time we stop romanticizing emotionally unavailable men and start celebrating characters who actually show up — consistently, respectfully and without games.
This article was submitted by an independent student. If you are interested in having your work featured in The Panther, reach out to pantheropinions@chapman.edu.
