If my life were a movie, it would kick off with a sweeping aerial shot of Kennebunkport’s rocky coastline—waves breaking against the shore, fog rolling in like a dramatic plot twist you didn’t see coming. Think The Holiday, but with fewer English cottages and more lobster traps. Cue the opening credits as we sail past my family’s historic sea captain’s home—complete with creaking stairs and a ghost story or two—and meet our protagonist: me.

I’m imagining this film as a romantic dramedy—equal parts heartfelt and laugh-out-loud, with a heavy sprinkling of charming New England eccentricities. You know, the kind that feels tailor-made for Sunday afternoon streaming. But, of course, every good movie needs an unforgettable cast. Let’s create this masterpiece.

The Leading Lady: Me, but Played by Someone Who Embodies my Inner Chaos and Quiet Sophistication

If there’s one actress who can blend wide-eyed curiosity with a dash of salty practicality, it’s Saoirse Ronan. She’d capture the way I delight in digging up unexpected maritime trivia to casually drop into conversations. (Did you know Kennebunkport was once a shipbuilding powerhouse in the 19th century? It’s true. I’ll find a way to work that into anything.)

Saoirse could deliver those quiet reflective moments—like when I walk the beach at sunset with a coffee in hand, debating whether true love is found in grand gestures or consistent kindness. But she’d also absolutely nail the scene where I spill clam chowder on myself mid-flirtation attempt at a local pub. Balance is everything.

Leading Man auditions: Who Gets the Role of My Eternal Crush?

A film about my life wouldn’t be complete without the romantic interest. After all, every regatta has a first mate. My leading man has to embody small-town charm with a dash of rugged dependability, someone who can split firewood in the morning and quote Emily Dickinson over dinner. (Yes, my standards are unreasonably cinematic, but bear with me.)

Let’s cast Jamie Dornan, Jude Law, or a pre-Succession Nicholas Braun as the guy who might start out as the fix-your-leaky-window neighbor trope but evolves into so much more. Of course, there’d be an obligatory sailing montage where he teaches me how to tack against the wind, because what’s a maritime-inspired romance without one?

My Dating Antagonist: The One Who Ghosted… and Still Follows Me on Instagram

Every good story needs some conflict, and in the dating world, it often comes in the form of an unforgettable antagonist. For me, this would be the guy who ticked all the boxes on paper but disappeared quicker than you can say “New England clam bake”—only to periodically pop up on Instagram to like my photos of lighthouses for reasons that remain unclear.

Someone like Adam Driver could absolutely capture the enigmatic, slightly brooding vibes of this character. He’d play him with just enough backstory to make you almost root for him before he inevitably disappoints you in the final act. But hey, that’s what good movies—and life—are all about: learning who deserves a place in your story and who doesn’t.

The Quirky Best Friend: Because Every Movie Needs One

Enter scene-stealer Florence Pugh as my ride-or-die best friend who slips in when the protagonist (me) gets a little too serious or spends one too many evenings lost in a Jane Austen novel instead of real life. Picture Florence mischievously plotting ways to get me to join a small-town trivia night and delivering lines like, “If you don’t go, you’re essentially telling the world you’re okay dying alone surrounded by 12 cats and dusty books from the 1800s.”

She’d be the sage advice-giver who drinks dark coffee, wears cozy knit sweaters, and delivers empowering zingers like, “You are the ocean, Charlotte! Don’t settle for a kiddie pool!” God bless her.

Supporting Cast & the Small-Town Ensemble

Every great movie has those memorable side characters who remind us of life’s charm. For my coastal tale, we’d cast:

  • The nosy yet lovable neighbor: Kathy Bates. She’d be the one who “just happens” to notice the new love interest lingering by my garden gate.
  • The hometown ex: Chris Evans because… obviously. He’s charming enough to be likable but will also serve as a subtle reminder that the past is best left where it belongs.
  • My family: Meryl Streep for my wise, practical mom who insists on the importance of tradition yet surprises you with her modern-day romantic wisdom, and Richard Jenkins as my dad, the one who tells the same sea lore every Thanksgiving but whose advice always hits surprisingly deep.

Pivotal Plot Twist: Charlotte Learns to Let Go

Every protagonist needs a defining moment of self-discovery, and mine would probably unfold during a late-night sail where I’m forced to confront my tendency to romanticize everything. At some point, the metaphor gets a little too on the nose—me steering the proverbial and literal ship of my life—but don’t we all love a little symbolism, especially when lighthouses are involved?

This is the scene where I learn that it’s possible to appreciate your history without being defined by it, embrace imperfection in dating, and, most importantly, recognize that the right connections feel steady rather than storm-tossed. After all, even the sturdiest vessel can’t find its way without a reliable compass.

The Ending: Flirt to Familiar, with a Side of Lobster

The film wraps with a classic New England summer scene: a lobster bake down by the beach, where Saoirse-as-me realizes that the leading man isn’t just someone she wants to sail with but anchor her life alongside. There’s jazz music (because we’re keeping it classy) and a slightly tipsy Kathy Bates winking at the couple from the punch bowl. Cue the closing credits as the bonfire crackles, and the camera pans out over the Atlantic, leaving audiences with that warm, content feeling.

Your Call to Action? Cast Your Own Movie

Movies have a way of clarifying what we value, where we’ve been, and what we’re sailing toward. So, take a moment to think: If your life were a movie, who would play you? Who makes up your ensemble? Most importantly, what moment would serve as your breakthrough scene, where you finally learn what a fulfilling, joyful connection truly looks like?

Love, like a good movie, doesn’t have to be perfect to be worth watching—or living. So, as your director, screenwriter, and leading star, don’t forget: You get to write the ending you deserve.