My life has always had a soundtrack. Whether it’s the ambient hum of a bustling Manhattan street or the subdued elegance of strings in a Parisian café, music has a way of punctuating my story, framing moments in ways words sometimes can’t. And since every chapter of my life seems to have its own playlist, it feels only fitting to share the tracks that have defined me, shaped my creativity, and, let’s be honest, occasionally rescued me from disastrous first dates. (The number of times I’ve hummed Sinatra in my head to avoid awkward silences? Immeasurable.)

But this isn’t just about me. Music has the incredible power to help us make sense of our ridiculous, beautiful, unrelenting lives—and I’ll wager it has a starring role in yours, too.

Act I: "Manhattan Serenade"

Key tracks: Ella Fitzgerald, Manhattan; Nina Simone, Feeling Good

Manhattan was both muse and metronome in my early years, setting the rhythm of gallery openings, late-night library sessions, and long walks home. My parents—devout art-world adventurers—played jazz as naturally as others might play white noise. Ella Fitzgerald’s “Manhattan” scored lazy Sunday mornings, when my mother would sip her espresso, flipping through auction catalogues. As a kid, I thought Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good” was about being, well, vaguely happy. But as I grew, the crescendos began to feel like a rallying cry. (“It’s a new dawn! It’s a new day!” Yes, Nina, I am a woman who’s got this.)

Looking back, I see that these songs taught me to be two things: unapologetically romantic about the mundane and deeply protective of my independence. A last-minute gallery date that fizzled faster than cheap champagne? No big deal—I biked home with Ella in my earbuds, glamorizing the glow of traffic lights against 5th Avenue skyscrapers. Jazz taught me to find beauty in the hiccups and let the music play on.

Act II: Heartbreak, but Make It Cinematic

Key tracks: Fleetwood Mac, Go Your Own Way; Adele, Turning Tables

Let me paint you a picture. Oxford, early November: It’s raining. Obviously. I’m holding my latest rejection letter for a prime internship while simultaneously nursing a too-expensive heartbreak over someone who thought “we should keep it casual” but also asked me to proofread their thesis. (Never again, gentlemen. Never again.) Enter Fleetwood Mac, stage left.

“You can go your own way,” Stevie sang through my headphones as I dramatically crossed the cobblestone bridge, tears mixing delightfully with the drizzle. Fleetwood Mac became my go-to breakup balm—not because wallowing wasn’t an option (it very much was), but because music reminded me I deserved better. Real heartbreak lessons are like Stevie’s lyrics: a little cryptic, slightly bitter, immensely wise.

And then came Adele. I wasn’t just listening to “Turning Tables”; I was living it. The lyrics weren’t just about setting boundaries—they were battle cries for regaining agency and saying, “I’m done editing your thesis drafts and accepting emotional breadcrumbs.” There’s an odd satisfaction in yelling “You’ll never see me fall apart” with Adele while ugly-crying in your room, trust me.

Act III: Loving on My Terms

Key tracks: Erykah Badu, On & On; Lizzo, Cuz I Love You

The thing about self-discovery is it’s not all moonlit epiphanies. It’s also embarrassing attempts at self-love (cue awkward affirmations in the mirror) and more missteps than you’d care to count. But when I moved back to Manhattan post-grad, something shifted. I remember walking into a Lower East Side bar one night and hearing Erykah Badu croon: “Oh my my my, I’m feeling high.” Something clicked.

Badu taught me that loving yourself doesn’t have to look perfect. It’s messy and nonlinear, but as long as you’re vibing—even on the days you’re stubbornly out of sync—you’re doing just fine. Her music became my go-to for slower mornings or evenings spent journaling, helping me order my thoughts.

Then came Lizzo, barging into my playlists with a big, glittery love letter to unapologetic confidence. If Badu whispered, “You’re doing great, sweetie,” Lizzo yelled, “Get out there and own it!” Somewhere between their two musical philosophies, I figured myself out a little more. I started setting better boundaries, holding myself accountable to my happiness—not someone else’s—and rediscovering the pure thrill of flirting for fun rather than validation.

Act IV: The Eternal Art of Flirting with Life

Key tracks: Edith Piaf, La Vie en Rose; Beyoncé, Love On Top

Now, let me clarify something: flirting isn’t just reserved for the dating scene. It’s a mindset—a way of engaging with the world. For me, Edith Piaf’s “La Vie en Rose” embodies this playful joie de vivre. Sure, the lyrics are all about romance, but the song itself feels like an ode to living through rose-colored glasses, at least some of the time.

I love playing this track when trying to relive summer afternoons spent in Provence (read: sipping rosé with friends and debating Cézanne paintings like carefree art nerds). It reminds me that even life’s simplest moments can feel delightfully cinematic if you let them.

Finally, there’s Beyoncé, the queen of “I own this moment.” Listen, if her powerhouse vocals in “Love On Top” don’t make you feel like lifting your chin, strutting your stuff, and texting your crush “Let’s grab cocktails,” then I don’t know what to tell you. Love on top isn’t just a relationship goal; it’s the ultimate life anthem. Loving your life, loving yourself, and yes, loving that particular someone when the stars align—it all adds up.

Curating Your Personal Soundtrack

So, what’s the takeaway from my musical meanderings? It’s this: your soundtrack is one of the most powerful tools for navigating life and love. Whenever you're in doubt (or midway through an awkward dinner date), let the music hold you steady. Start by building playlists that capture where you’ve been—and where you’re headed:

  • For Confidence Boosts: Think Lizzo’s “Good as Hell” or Beyoncé’s entire discography. (Seriously, just hit shuffle. You can’t go wrong.)
  • For Navigating Heartache: Fleetwood Mac will always come through. Add some SZA or Hozier for contemporary poetic flair.
  • For Daydreaming: Jazz classics like Fitzgerald or laid-back vibes from Leon Bridges are perfect companions. Romanticizing your commute? Try Piaf or Sinatra.
  • For Pure Joy: Anything disco. Trust me. Donna Summer can literally fix your mood in under three minutes flat.

Music is therapy, celebration, reflection—everything wrapped into one. It fuels the art you create, the love you give, and the resilience you quietly cultivate. And as for me? I’ll keep living my life, letting Nina, Fleetwood, and Lizzo score the moments I want to remember. The rest is just background noise.