If my life were a movie, the reviews would describe it as “equal parts heartfelt dramedy and coming-of-age indie flick, with an award-worthy soundtrack.” And really, doesn’t that sum up most of us? Love, loss, triumph, and the occasional embarrassing monologue—turning your life into cinematic magic feels both thrilling and like a tiny act of rebellion.

If you’ve ever caught yourself casting actors for your hypothetical biopic or fantasized about which moody indie ballad would play during your heartbreak montage, then I’ll see you at the popcorn stand. Because every life deserves its silver screen treatment, and today, I’m calling the shots. Lights, camera, action—here's how I’d cast MY film.

The Director: Me, Obviously

First thing’s first—every movie needs a creative visionary at the helm, and no one understands the intricate blend of awkwardness and humor from my formative years better than, well, me. Sure, I could hand over the reins to someone like Greta Gerwig (queen of tender nostalgia) or Ava DuVernay (master of crafting emotional depth), but I’d like to imagine my directorial debut would be a messy, heartfelt masterpiece.

I mean, after all, who else could capture the chaotic and oddly specific energy of a family road trip to Dollywood in the early ’90s or the soul-crushing sting of junior prom rejection with quite the nuance those moments—and my dignity—deserve?

My Leading Role: Kristen Bell as Me

I've been told more than a few times that I have “Kristen Bell energy,” and frankly, I don’t hate it. She has that perfect balance of “tries her best but still ends up in absurd situations,” which mirrors the vibe of my life pretty closely. Plus, Kristen’s ability to convey both a whip-smart sense of humor and a soft spot for heartful vulnerability means she’d take what I consider an A‑plot drama (like my first major heartbreak) and deliver it with just the right amount of relatability.

Besides, who wouldn’t trust the woman who sobbed over a sloth on television to capture the feel-good tears of my life’s quiet triumphs … like surviving middle school with bangs or serenading my high school crush from a cafeteria stage? (Yes, it happened. Yes, I wish I could take it back.)

The Soundtrack: A Mix of Dolly, Fleetwood Mac, and the Black Keys

As someone raised in Music City where melodies are practically stitched into the cobblestone streets, one thing is for sure: if my life were a movie, you’d leave humming the soundtrack. Opening with Dolly Parton’s “Here You Come Again” during the neighborhood block party scene? Check. A montage of awkward high school crushes while Stevie Nicks croons “Landslide”? Absolutely.

But even though my soul’s rooted in country and Americana, my “moving-on” moments lean toward The Black Keys’ soulful grit, particularly anything from El Camino. When the time comes for the empowering post-heartbreak strut (you know the one—hair blowing in the wind while the ex looks regretful in slow motion), I want “Lonely Boy” blasting. Goosebumps guaranteed.

The Casting Call: Spotlighting My Inner Circle

You know how every great movie has a supporting cast that makes the lead shine even brighter? That’s my family and friends, hands down.

  • My Mom (played by Margo Martindale): Snappy, won’t sugarcoat the truth, but gives the kind of hugs that erase whole bad days. An icon.
  • My Dad (portrayed by Jeff Bridges): Equal parts wise and a bit eccentric. He’d always have an acoustic guitar nearby, ready to bust out a tune to diffuse an argument or celebrate the day.
  • The Best Friend/Comedic Relief (think Jennifer Coolidge from White Lotus): My childhood bestie Laura 100% embodies peak “this sentence doesn’t make sense, but we’re crying-laughing anyway” energy. She knows all my secrets and would absolutely roast me in front of the camera.
  • The Love Interest: This is tricky because I want to acknowledge the exes but also, let’s give future People Magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” to a fictionalized romantic arc, shall we? I’m thinking someone with Paul Mescal’s vulnerable-yet-magnetic on-screen charm mixed with Timothée Chalamet-style cheekbones. His character can be tragically imperfect but deeply lovable—the guy who gets it right just before the credits roll.

Iconic Movie Moments from My Life

The Meet-Cute

There’s a scene I’ve already storyboarded in vivid detail. I’m shopping for vinyl at Grimey’s, Nashville’s holy grail of record stores, when our hands reach for the same Fleetwood Mac album … cue the awkward but longing glances over the 1977 cover art of Rumours. Sounds cliché? Maybe, but the best rom-com moments always are.

The real-life version wasn’t so neat. I once tripped into someone’s coffee at a café while attempting to avoid eye contact. Romantic sparks decidedly did not fly. But hey, in the movie remake, it feels right to dream of that record-store moment.

The Rock Bottom Scene

No movie about my life would be complete without the dramatic rock-bottom montage. It’s 2015, heartbreak’s barely had time to settle in when I’m crying on my couch, surrounded by Chinese takeout cartons, tissues, and bad reality TV. Cue the soft, haunting acoustic number by First Aid Kit. Is it over-the-top? Probably. But it’s also the low point that sets the stage for reinvention.

Real life afterward involved a lot of self-help podcasts, yoga attempts, and finally accepting that healing is slower than I’d like. (Spoiler: That’s okay, too.)

The Big Finale

From there, the grand redemption arc kicks in. Cinema calls it the climax—I call it finding the version of myself that stopped asking for permission to be happy.

It’s the moment where Nashville’s neon skyline lights up behind me as Kristen Bell (still as me) performs a brave, soulful song with my dad’s old guitar, finally embracing that it’s okay to be flawed and totally myself. Is this event real? No. Does it feel like something my movie deserves? Absolutely.

The Takeaway: Your Movie Is Worth Telling, Too

If this little exercise has taught me anything—besides the fact that I really should’ve pursued acting classes in college—it’s that our lives already have the bones of a great screenplay. Every heartbreak, awkward coffee shop stumble, or hairbrush singalong adds to your story in ways that feel mundane until you step back and see the beautiful chaos for what it really is: totally, enchantingly cinematic.

So if your life were a movie, who’s in it? What’s the soundtrack? What’s your meet-cute? You don’t need a Hollywood budget to tell your story—your daily moments are worth a standing ovation, messy montages and all.

Now, go dream up your Oscar speech, sweetheart. You’ve earned it.