You know that daydream where your life is suddenly a blockbuster—complete with a perfectly curated soundtrack, slow-motion montages, and strategically placed mood lighting? Yeah, me too. Except in my movie, some of the plot twists are less Rom-Com and more Oops-Com. But hey, if I’m the star of this hypothetical film, at least I get casting control, right? So grab some popcorn and join me as I imagine my life as a movie—awkward meet-cutes, supportive side characters, and all.

Act One: The Early Years—A Slice of Nostalgia

If the opening scenes of my life movie were shot, it’d be inside a cozy café with dusty sunlight streaming through the windows. Think Lady Bird, but swap the Catholic school for a chaos-charming, family-owned café in Vancouver's Kitsilano neighborhood. The director would pan to a younger version of me mixing matcha lattes and sneaking glances at regulars, wondering about their lives. As for casting my younger self? Let’s go with Lana Condor. Yes, I know she’s already Lara Jean in To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, but trust me—she gets it. Growing up in a multicultural household, caught between two cultures, trying to find her groove? That’s classic Lana vibes.

Cue the montage: me trying to figure out school crushes while meticulously organizing my IB physics flashcards. Flash forward to random snippets of my parents reminding me to "use my words" (an early sign I’d become a writer, perhaps?) and learning the dynamics of human connection from observing regular café customers. Protagonist judgmental-yet-hopeful gaze firmly in place.

Soundtrack vibes: A mix of the soothing strum of Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams and the energetic bounce of anything by She & Him.

Act Two: Love, Heartbreak, and Group Texts

When it comes to romance, I wish I could say my life movie is a seamless blend of 500 Days of Summer and Notting Hill. Unfortunately, it’s more like the charmingly chaotic “accidental love interest” trope meets an indie dramedy. The person I’d cast opposite me in these scenes? Dev Patel. Even if he’s not totally my “type,” he’s EVERYONE’s type. And yes, he radiates big “best meet-cute partner” energy. Picture the two of us awkwardly bonding in a Tofino surf shop over which wetsuits are least likely to chafe—a true West Coast love story!

Of course, no movie is complete without some heartbreak. Cue the bittersweet breakup montage where I sit at Granville Island staring dramatically at mountains over coffee (emotionally deep, right?!). This part of the film is where we dig into the relatable stuff: texting your group chat about the post-breakup haircut you absolutely need (“Bang or no bangs?”), learning to love solo walks along Kits Beach, and putting yourself back out there even when it feels like walking into a real-life meme.

Actionable takeaway from this act? When heartbreak collides with introspection, channel it into learning:
- Journal out your emotions—messy thoughts often lead to epiphanies.
- Surround yourself with people who remind you you’re lovable exactly as you are (shoutout to my cousin Mei, the unofficial MVP of my group-text therapy).
- Don’t oversaturate your heartache with sad playlists. Give yourself permission to mix in a danceable track. Trust me.

Act Three: Side Characters Who Steal the Scene

Speaking of MVPs, let’s talk about side characters. Every epic film has them, and in the movie of my life, they’re part comic relief and part lowkey life coach. My mom is absolutely played by Michelle Yeoh (strong, determined, perfectionist energy), and my dad? Randall Park, effortlessly delivering dry one-liners that anchor the movie’s humor.

Cameo appearances also include my best friend Harper as played by Beanie Feldstein. Why? Because Harper is whip-smart, always slightly chaotic, and the type of person who’ll stay on FaceTime while you try on six different outfits for what’s supposed to be “a casual coffee date.” Harper is the one who reminds me I’m the main character when I start to forget.

Actually, here’s an actionable reminder for you: In the story of your life, your chosen family—the Harpers and the Meis—count just as much as romantic interests, if not more.

Act Four: Finding Quiet Wins

Eventually, my movie slows down. We’re no longer in montage mode. Instead, it’s those still, reflective scenes where the protagonist sips tea in an overstuffed armchair and allows herself to breathe. She marvels at how far she’s come (and that’s no small thing—Melbourne to Vancouver to Tofino and back!).

These are the parts of life we don’t celebrate enough, but they’re just as big a deal as grand gestures or sweeping declarations of love. For me, these moments are found in chatting with my parents about their café regulars, hiking solo through Pacific Northwest trails, or sitting on the seawall realizing there’s no rush to find “the one” because, well, there’s a certain joy in the unfolding story.

Soundtrack moment: Brandi Carlile's The Eye—you’ll cry, but in the best way.

Closing Credits: Your Movie, Your Script

Here’s the thing about imagining your life as a movie: You’re the star, sure, but you’re also the screenwriter and the director. You get to decide what scenes replay in your memory, who stays in your cast, and what arc you pursue next. So go ahead, take creative liberties with your narrative. And don’t forget—every good movie has at least one dance-in-the-kitchen moment.

In the end? Life might not be a perfectly scripted blockbuster, but it’s yours. And trust me, even those awkward side plots add charm to the story.