Why Every Life Deserves Its Own Soundtrack

If my life were a movie, it’d be directed by Pedro Almodóvar: colorful scenes, some scattered chaos, and just enough Ana-Torres-style melodrama to keep you hooked. But what’s a film without its soundtrack, its rhythm, its heartbeat? Growing up in Santiago, my life began to play out to a symphony of Nueva Canción records stacked tall in my parents’ living room, a mix of poetic lyrics and political undertones. Fast forward a couple of decades, a few heartbreaks, countless moves, and this life of mine has become a playlist—raw, eclectic, and maybe a little odd.

Music, for me, isn’t just background noise; it’s the thing that makes me feel. It brings clarity when relationships get murky, makes long-distance friendships sting less, and helps that solitary glass of Carmenère in a Madrid apartment feel like self-care—not sulking. So let me take you through the songs that have defined me—not just as a writer, a daughter, or a partner, but as someone who believes every playlist should hit a mix of highs, lows, and the occasional “what was I thinking?”

1. The Prelude: Childhood Melodies (The Sound of Roots)

You don’t realize when you’re young how much your parents’ music seeps into your soul. For me, it was Violeta Parra and Quilapayún. When I first heard “Gracias a la Vida,” I was six and utterly confused. “Why thank life?” I thought. Life, at the time, was being told no dessert until broccoli disappeared from my plate.

But those lyrics stuck. Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto... They planted the first seeds of appreciating poetry, music, and, dare I say it, drama. Years later, in a dimly lit bar in Buenos Aires, someone played it on guitar. I was overwhelmed—not just by the song but in remembering my parents’ voices singing along during Sunday asados. It reminded me that the love we inherit, the roots we carry, are their own kind of soundtrack.

Tip: Start your playlist with tracks that connect you to your younger self. Whether that’s your dad’s ’80s rock obsession or your mom’s Whitney Houston ballads, it’s a way of grounding yourself when things feel messy (like post-breakup pizza pity parties).

2. The Interlude: When Love Sounds Like a Mixtape

Have you ever fallen in love with someone just because your favorite songs sound better when they’re around? My first serious boyfriend was an amateur musician—a bad one, I might add. (Picture John Mayer lyrics paired with guitar fretwork that sounds like clumsy construction.) But, he introduced me to Radiohead. “Fake Plastic Trees” became our song, which in hindsight was an enormous red flag. The relationship became just that—fake plastic: brittle, unsustainable, wilting under any real pressure.

Breakups are where soundtracks turn into soul medicine. I drowned my tears in Sade’s “No Ordinary Love” for weeks, eventually graduating to Beyoncé (cue: “Irreplaceable”). And let me tell you, nothing dries tears faster than belting out to the left, to the left.

Tip:
When your heart hurts, pick songs that draw the line between indulgence and empowerment. Sure, cry to Adele (Who can blame you?) but don’t linger—shift to Lizzo or Bad Bunny when you’re ready to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

3. The Crescendo: Discovering Yourself Through Music

Living abroad in Madrid during my mid-20s came with its own soundtrack. There’s something cinematic about wandering through Puerta del Sol at sunrise with Joan Manuel Serrat singing in your ears (Mediterráneo for melancholic flair, always). But music wasn’t just my companion during long walks or all-nighter study sessions—it became part of my identity.

In Santiago, I was Carmen: the neighbor’s kid who read too much. But in Madrid, music gave me a new sense of self. I discovered reggaeton (late to the party, I know), and the energy of Daddy Yankee’s “Gasolina” made the Santiago stoicism in me break loose. There’s no better feeling than realizing a song doesn’t just speak to who you are—it stirs up the person you’re ready to become.

Tip:
Switching cities, careers, or even hair colors? Build a soundtrack filled with fearless anthems. Songs that push you to step out of who you were yesterday, like Rosalía or anything with a beat that doesn’t count its own heart rate.

4. The Quiet Bridges: Long-Distance Feelings

Maintaining relationships as a serial suitcase-packer isn’t easy. I once spent two years between Santiago and Mexico City for research, halfway across the planet from my partner at the time. Music became our emotional lifeline. Once a week, we’d send each other songs instead of texts: “Enloquecer” by Carla Morrison, “Bésame Mucho” for when he felt sentimental, and José González’s whispery “Heartbeats” for moments we both really missed being in the same time zone.

Spoiler alert: sending playlists doesn’t save failing relationships—but it does preserve something tender, even post-split. To this day, if “Heartbeats” comes on Spotify, I instinctively smile.

Tip:
Building a playlist for someone else? Focus less on big romantic statements and more on the songs that make you both feel seen. Or just throw in something ridiculous (like Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie”). Shared laughter works wonders.

5. The Dance-Floor Finale: Joy, Pure and Simple

Here’s the thing: Not every chapter requires profound introspection. Sometimes joy deserves to steal the spotlight. Few moments in life feel as affirming as blasting salsa while celebrating you. My definitive track for this mood? Celia Cruz’s “La Vida Es Un Carnaval.” Full stop.

I danced to it after graduating with my master’s, danced to it on a random Tuesday because Madrid wine was too good, and once played it at full volume after someone rejected my novel manuscript. (Revenge by rhythm. Highly recommend.) Joy deserves to be loud and unapologetic, and it’s through music that I’ve made peace with mistakes, failures, and flaws. Every missed note is still part of the song.

Tip:
When life’s ordinary but you want to celebrate anyway, pick your “instant mood-lift” track. Something that forces your hips to sway, even if you’re sitting in traffic or doing laundry. Bonus points if it’s in a language you don’t speak fluently—it doubles the fun.

Your Life, Your Playlist

If life really is like a movie, then building your soundtrack is more than just cute nostalgia—it’s self-preservation. These songs are the ones you’ll cry to when a relationship crumbles, dance to in triumphs you didn’t see coming, and cling to when you need reminding: you’re still here, fiercely and fully alive.

So what’s your next track? Something soothing? Something fiery? Something you’ll want to send someone special in the dead of night? Whatever song it is, just make sure it’s yours.
After all, real connection—be it to others or ourselves—isn’t just about speaking the same words. It’s about finding melodies that make us move.