What’s Playing: The Soundtrack to a Small-Town Girl’s Big Ideas

Music has always been my way of making sense of things—both the big, existential questions and the smaller, “why did I just eat an entire bag of kettle chips at 1 a.m.?” moments. It’s constant background noise to my life, shaping moods, marking memories, and, yes, occasionally drowning out the sound of my own overthinking. But when I started to think about what songs would go on the mixtape of my life, I realized how tangled these tracks are with the story of who I am.

Every playlist is a tiny autobiography, intentionally or not. Mine has a lot of indie rock you’ve probably heard at a coffee shop, a sprinkling of pop bangers (because, yes, we all dance shamelessly in the kitchen sometimes), and a steady undercurrent of stories—because storytelling is the thing I love most, whether through words, lyrics, or awkward first-date vulnerability.

Here’s how my soundtrack helps me create, connect, and occasionally ugly cry into a pint of caramel swirl ice cream.

1. The Opening Track: Small Town, Big Dreams

Imagine a nine-year-old Leslie standing on the tiny stage of her elementary school gym in Boise, holding a microphone like it’s a golden ticket to her future. The song? Shania Twain’s Man! I Feel Like a Woman. It was the first banger I ever loved, and oh, I felt it. Did I grasp the nuances of gender roles or the radical power of a pop anthem at the time? Not even close. But I did know that if Shania could own the stage in a sparkly pantsuit, I could conquer Boise—or at least make it through my piano recital without crying.

Living in a place like Boise’s North End—a sun-dappled mix of quirky neighbors, pine trees, and farmer’s markets—meant that my soundtrack growing up was a lot of bluegrass, country, and my dad’s endless playlists of Tom Petty. The Heartbreakers’ Learning to Fly became the theme song of every summer road trip. Its lyrics seemed perfectly written for driving dusty backroads with a cooler of sandwiches in the trunk.

Takeaway: Your "Opening Track" defines your vibe. It doesn’t have to be trendy or polished—just something that reflects your base-layer self, the kind that sneaks into your conversations or playlists without you even noticing.

2. The Messy Middle: Love Songs by Trial and Error

If my life had a pop-up video soundtrack in my twenties (yes, Millennials still talk about Pop-Up Video, fight me), it would be nothing but unrequited love songs and confusing indie ballads. There was a time when Skinny Love by Bon Iver felt like an actual biography of my soul. Did I turn every perfectly fine first date into the emotional equivalent of an Adele breakup album? Sure did. Was it worth it? As someone wise once said, "No bad dates—only good stories."

There’s something about music during this stage of life—it heightens all your misadventures. Punchy dance tracks make bad Tinder dates sound more hilarious in hindsight. Meanwhile, sad acoustic folk songs are handy for turning an eight-second text breakup into a melancholy three-act play in your head. (Pro tip: Skip Fix You by Coldplay unless you're really ready to sit in your feelings.)

Takeaway: Use music to process and laugh at your own drama. If a sad song sets the emotional stage, let something ridiculously upbeat—like Carly Rae Jepsen’s Cut to the Feeling—pull you back out. Soundtrack your heartbreak, but never forget to add a U-turn song for when you’re ready to recover.

3. The Creative Process Playlist: From Blank Page to Big Ideas

As a writer, staring out the window at the foothills is part of my process. So is hitting play on my “Get Sht Done” Spotify playlist—full of mellow, instrumental tracks to keep my brain focused. (For the curious: It’s five hours of lo-fi beats, some Bonobo, and exactly one Fleet Foxes song because hipsterness dies hard*.)

Music is wildly effective at luring creativity out of hiding. The right playlist can make a blank page exhilarating instead of terrifying. Sometimes it’s something lyric-free that works like white noise—other times, I’ll loop Maggie Rogers or Phoebe Bridgers because their words move the little gears in my brain.

And confession: When a deadline is crushing and my coffee’s gone lukewarm, I blast Bohemian Rhapsody because there’s something about belting out “MAMMA MIA” alone in my kitchen that makes even the hardest creative blocks seem less serious.

Takeaway: Craft a playlist that reflects how you want to feel, not just how you do. Music has this otherworldly way of lifting the mood or pulling focus away from spiraling self-doubt. It’s the creative hype buddy you didn’t know you needed.

4. Romantic Comedies and Road Trip Dreams

Look, not all love stories start with a perfect Ed Sheeran ballad playing in the background. Sometimes, they sound more like Vampire Weekend playing awkwardly at a dive bar while you argue over who’s paying for the nachos (just me?).

But there’s one playlist universal to any relationship: The Road Trip Soundtrack. Road trips reveal wildly specific information about your partner’s musical tastes: Are they the kind of person who insists on obscure classics, sings every Taylor Swift song out loud, or somehow knows every word to The Hamilton Soundtrack?

When my now-partner and I took our first real road trip, I inadvertently tested his endurance with an accidental rotation of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors and Bruce Springsteen’s Greatest Hits. While he passed this initiation (and helped me rediscover my love for Born to Run), the real magic of road trip music is how it becomes fused with memories of highway sunsets and inside jokes.

Takeaway: Build a shared playlist for your road trips—it creates a little sonic scrapbook for your connection. And remember, compromise is key. Just because your jam is Elliott Smith doesn’t mean your copilot won’t demand some Beyoncé.

5. The Closing Number: Songs That Feel Like Roots

No Leslie life soundtrack could be complete without the track that feels like home. For me, that’s Brandi Carlile’s The Story. Her vocals hit you in the chest, and her lyrics about authenticity always remind me why I write—to tell stories that feel raw, real, and human.

It’s funny how a single song can bring everything full-circle. For me, The Story feels like walking in the foothills on a brisk fall evening or sitting on the bank of the Boise River while my childhood self dreamed of writing something “important.” Listening to it now, older and maybe slightly wiser, reminds me that the real magic is in capturing tiny moments and emotions.

Takeaway: Everyone needs a sonic touchstone. Whether it’s the song that reminds you where you started or one that helps you breathe when life feels like a chaotic mess, put it on repeat when you need grounding.

Final Note

Just like no two relationships are exactly alike, no two soundtracks are either. My mixtape tells a story of potato-strewn roots, a love-hate relationship with my feelings, and a creative process that involves equal parts emotional overthinking and embarrassing kitchen dance-offs.

The songs matter, sure—but the way they weave into the everydayness of life matters more. So go ahead. Build your soundtrack, spin it loudly, and let the music remind you of who you are, where you’ve been, and where you’re bravely heading next.

After all, the best songs aren’t just about singing along—they’re about what they make you feel.