I have a complicated relationship with Sex & The City, as I'm sure you can imagine, but one thing I liked very much is how the show (immediately the movie/s fucked this up, but stay with me) ended on such a reversal for everybody. Those last couple seasons were marvelous because it was watching this same thing happen: Samantha loses her tits, then her sex drive: So then who is Samantha? Carrie commits -- even leaving NYC altogether -- which nearly fucking kills her. Miranda goes from being a happy work-minded singleton to having an entire family weighing her down. WASP-ass Charlotte ends up married to a Jew with a Chinese baby: Who is Charlotte now? Just beautiful, I loved that.
Or for one last example, Good Will Hunting. Will is crazy and self-destructive and self-limiting because every therapist that could help him, Will finds a way in there. Very Joss, even down to seducing them. Escapes every leash, digs under every dome, always one step ahead: The smarter you are, the crazier you get to be because the person building the mazes is you, and you are very smart. And so only the one who drives him fucking mental by not giving in while also giving him what he needs is the one that can help him: The person that can change shape as fast as Will can, so he never gets tricked.
So this whole thing of Joss picking at the scab of Olivier -- wanting his approval rather than his respect, wanting his desire rather than his appreciation, wanting him to submit rather than agree, wanting him to idealize rather than assess her -- could, if he stays strong and doesn't let her sneakily fuck him, be the thing that makes her stronger and better than anybody else on the show. By coming up against the Immovable Object and seeing what it really is, letting herself be ripped up and put back together, she gets to own both sides of the Carver Equation -- to be the Saint and the Screwup, the Free Spirit and the Put-Together Woman -- and becomes a superhero. And she doesn't even know any of this is going on!
(Well, personally I would say that a secret part of us -- of which we are, by definition, unaware -- desperately yearns for wholeness, and will happily conspire to subvert or sabotage any and all of our strategies to get there, but again: I don't trust this show very much. Just people. Just people, and the God of Very Hard Things, with whom I still do not have a great relationship, myself.)