Exploring the unposted proposal that tells us everything about Carrie Bradshaw and her complicated relationship with modern love
There’s a scene in Sex and the City that tells you everything you need to know about Carrie Bradshaw—and what she might (or might not) post on Instagram.
Season 4, Episode 1. Carrie’s out to dinner with the girls and runs into Susan Sharon, a blast from her Season 2 past. Susan asks the most basic of questions:
“So what’s new with you?”
Carrie pauses. “Oh, you know… same old, same old.”
It takes Charlotte—ever the romantic, ever the notetaker—to blurt out:
“Carrie! You got engaged!”
That moment, played for laughs, actually reveals something deeper:
Carrie Bradshaw forgot she was engaged.
Not because she’s flaky. Not because it wasn’t a big deal.
But because Carrie didn’t see the ring as a headline—she saw it as a question she hadn’t quite figured out how to answer.
And if Carrie forgot to tell Susan Sharon at dinner, you can bet she wouldn’t have told the internet either.
Carrie and Aidan: It’s Complicated
Let’s rewind.
Carrie’s first and only proposal (until Big, way down the line) was from Aidan Shaw—the furniture-making, dog-loving, grown-up boyfriend she first dated in Season 3. That relationship famously went down in flames when she cheated on him with Big.
They broke up.
Then, in Season 4, they got back together.
And that’s when Aidan proposed. It was their second attempt at love, but Carrie’s first experience with the idea of marriage.
The proposal itself was sweet, soft, and private. No fancy dinner, no flash mob, no iPhone held at the ready. Just Aidan, a ring box, and a hope that round two would stick. She said yes. But then… she started wearing the ring on a chain. Around her neck. Like a secret. Like something she wasn’t ready to wear—or share.
So… Would Carrie Have Posted It?
Here’s the thing: Carrie Bradshaw wasn’t a sharer in the modern sense.
She was a writer, not a broadcaster.
She emailed awkwardly, avoided voicemails, and famously didn’t have a clue about tech until way after her column was syndicated.
Instagram, with its carefully curated grids and performative perfection, doesn’t feel like her scene. It’s all too fast. Too filtered. Too final.
Would she have posed with her hand on Aidan’s chest, ring in focus, captioned “I said yes”?
No.
Carrie wouldn’t have posted her ring because she hadn’t decided if she even wanted it.
And Carrie never liked being boxed in—not by a man, not by marriage, and certainly not by a social media template.
Charlotte Would Have Tagged Her Anyway
If anything, it would’ve been Charlotte who posted it first.
A slightly blurry pic from brunch, captioned:
“Couldn’t be happier for Carrie Bradshaw”
Carrie would’ve reposted it (maybe). Or not at all.
She would’ve looked at it, smiled with one corner of her mouth, and felt… uncertain. As always.
Because for Carrie, relationships were something to be explored on the page—not performed online.
And What About Berger?
Just to clear the timeline: it wasn’t Berger who ghosted her digitally.
That honor goes to the Post-it note.
He didn’t text. He didn’t email. He didn’t even call. He left a yellow square with a Sharpie scrawl:
“I’m sorry. I can’t. Don’t hate me.”
Which, in its own sad way, was peak Carrie-era tech.
The Final Word
If Carrie Bradshaw had Instagram, she’d probably treat it like she did her answering machine: reluctantly, and only when absolutely necessary.
No “just engaged” posts.
No ring selfies.
No story of the moment Aidan got down on one knee.
Carrie wasn’t afraid of love—but she was terrified of labels.
And an Instagram post is the most permanent kind of label: timestamped, filtered, and forever open to interpretation.
Carrie Bradshaw wouldn’t have posted her engagement.
She would’ve written about it six weeks later, in her column, wondering out loud whether saying yes to a ring means saying yes to forever—especially when your heart still skips a beat for someone else.
And that, in the end, would’ve gotten a lot more likes.
