Opening Credits: Start with a Martini (Extra Dry, Extra Relatable)

Picture this: a dimly lit martini bar on the Upper East Side, where I’m perched on a stool wearing an impeccable Vivienne Westwood blazer. Nina Simone hums in the background, and suddenly, Hugh Grant circa About a Boy walks in, bumping my chair as he fumbles unsuccessfully with his scarf. Do I sigh and roll my eyes dramatically, or do I lean in quirkily as if the meet-cute gods have orchestrated this for my benefit? (The trick answer, obviously, is to do neither and absolutely finish the olives first.)

If my life were a movie, the first scene alone tells you exactly what you’re in for: a fusion of whimsy, art-world elitism, and a dating history as complicated as one of Picasso’s cubist portraits. Casting this film about my life isn’t just an exercise in narcissism (okay, maybe a little)—it’s also a way to unpack what it takes to honor the messy, beautiful, utterly unpredictable storylines of our personal relationships.

Let’s spotlight who would make the cut… and, of course, what lessons lovers, friends, and would-be Hugh Grants have taught me along the way.

The Role of Me: A Protagonist With Impeccable Taste in Chaos

Playing yourself in your hypothetical life movie would seem like the dream, wouldn’t it? But for the sake of drama, let’s cast someone else. My first instinct is Saoirse Ronan—someone effortlessly refined but with an unmistakable knack for delivering emotional gut-punches (call me a sucker for Lady Bird angst). However, given the exacting standards of my childhood growing up in Manhattan’s swirling vortex of philanthropic galas and art-world sparring matches, I think we’d need Cate Blanchett. Specifically, TÁR-era Cate Blanchett: a little intimidating, a little unhinged, but ultimately magnetic even at her messiest.

Cate, dressed in a tailored cashmere turtleneck, would capture the quirky duality of my life—alternating between whispered gallery negotiations over Rothkos and dating in an era where entire relationships hinge on the speed of three text dots appearing and disappearing.

And yet, here’s the thing: as much as I’d like to cast a bold, sophisticated powerhouse to play me, the truth is that getting by—whether in love or life—means slipping off that pedestal and letting imperfection shine. Playing the “cool, collected love interest” aesthetic is overrated when the better stories lie in the pratfalls. (Note: My real-life pratfalls often happen in Prada heels.)

The Love Interests: From Swoon-Worthy to Strangely Familiar

Ah, the suitors. Let’s call this section “supporting cast” because, well, why let them steal the storyline entirely? Here’s where I’d slot them:

  1. The Charming Disaster (played by Timothée Chalamet): Every romantic life film needs one. Call him the nostalgic art collector I met in a rainy Oxford courtyard. Call him the Italian chef whose pasta was better than his conversational skills. Either way, Timothée gets the gig. These relationships always carry the intensity of a Renaissance painting—beautiful up close, but a little cracked when you look beneath the glossy varnish.

    • Spoiler: What these charming disasters lack in longevity, they make up for in teaching you what you don't need. A relationship should feel more like sipping champagne (effervescent, smooth) and less like deciphering modern art (confusing, borderline exhausting).

  2. The Stable Worthy Hero (played by Chris Evans): Surely, life offers up at least one emotionally available option. Enter the guy who knows how to make a proper espresso and has never once used “seen” as the weapon of modern flirtation. Reliable types tend to feel underappreciated in the scripting—you’d think they’re the background characters. But let me tell you: when life throws curveballs, and it will, Chris Evans is the one steering the Vespa confidently through Tuscan back roads (true story).

    • Lesson: Sometimes, emotional stability is sexier than spontaneity—but only if you learn to see it through the right cinematic lens.

  3. The Wild Card Bestie (played by Awkwafina): Is this a romance? No. But a film about my life wouldn’t even make it off its first-act montage without the comic relief, impulsive decisions, and knowing eyebrow raises of my best friend. Every protagonist needs someone who texts, “So are we burning the evidence, or are we planning a wholesome brunch?” when your most recent escapade has obviously involved both.

    • Real Talk: Our friendships are often the love stories we undervalue. And sometimes, those memories at midnight pizza parlors will outshine the plot twists of everyone on your romantic roster.

The Setting: Where the Art Meets the Heart

Every great movie needs a memorable backdrop, and mine would naturally toggle between glamorous urbanity and idyllic European charm.

  • Manhattan, obviously. My formative years taught me the duality of venues. Any museum gala paints a veneer of sophistication, but behind closed doors are often heartbreak-sized misunderstandings or stolen glances with someone who shares your exact disdain for small talk. Picture me retreating to the rooftop afterward with a glass of pinot noir in hand, gazing at the skyline and contemplating modern love.

  • The English countryside. During my postgrad years, this was where “getting swept off your feet” occasionally just meant hiking in Wellies and realizing soggy sandwiches can taste romantic under the right conditions.

  • Italy. Because Call Me By Your Name did it first, but life is too short not to embrace a Vespa moment.

Your setting matters less than you think. Romance isn’t scripted. Sometimes, it shows up on rainy platforms (Oxford), crammed subway rides (thanks, New York), or wine-stained tablecloths after dinner parties with friends. Trust me, painting a perfect backdrop is easier than finding the person who complements your canvas.

The Soundtrack: All the Feels, Please

Would it really be my fictionalized life movie without Ella Fitzgerald crooning through the romantic missteps, or Nina Simone breathing magic into thoughtful singlehood? Throw in Etta James’ “At Last” for the moments when everything clicks (because eventually, it does—or at least we hope).

But don’t forget the chaotic, fun tracks that play during my museum opening after-parties—think Amy Winehouse mixed with Fleetwood Mac—to underscore that love, like art, never takes itself entirely seriously.

What’s the Takeaway? (Cue the Lights)

If you ask me, every one of us deserves to see our lives through a cinematic lens. Cast the wild characters. Root for the unexpected underdogs. When things go ridiculously sideways—cue an awkward third-act breakup—give yourself permission to grab the figurative popcorn, lean in, and savor the highs and lows of storytelling.

Movies, just like relationships, never unfold exactly as planned. But that’s what keeps us showing up—hopeful for the next twist, the next look swept across a room, the next time life surprises us with charisma, chaos, and connection.

So, if my life were a film, here’s what it all boils down to: I’m just a woman sitting in a coffee shop, waiting for life to yell, “Action!” one more time. And trust me, darling, you’re the star of yours, too.