Returning to My First Love of Filmmaking — And Asking If It’s Too Late

This year I returned to multimedia storytelling, wrestling with doubt and building even more creative resilience. If you’re in your own season of dreaming as well, this is for you.

This year, I’ve been delving back into my first love: multimedia storytelling. 🎥✨

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In 2001, I entered film school a wide-eyed optimist, sure I was going to be taught all I needed to know to win an Oscar.

In 2005, I left college completely heartbroken.

In between, there had been such a stark loss of innocence. September 11th happened mere weeks after I started, thrusting my country into multiple wars that people I grew up with fought and died in, and making me face the realities of U.S. politics and our lust for power and oil.

While studying abroad in Italy for a year, I experienced the world from a whole different angle, politically, linguistically and artistically. Italian Neo-realistic film taught me to release that Hollywood shine and embrace the little moments of humanity and joy in a complex and hard world (an influence still seen in my work today).

During my last month abroad, I finally slept with a woman, the thing I’d longed to do since I came out at twelve. What was supposed to be a one-night fling with a friend turned into a nine-month relationship with a closeted person that ripped apart my soul.

But while all of those experiences were intense moments of growth, nothing slapped me in the face and made me “grow up” quite like facing the reality of the film industry.

Day after day in class, I heard horror stories about Hollywood’s toxicity, especially towards women. I attended LGBTQ film festivals where stunningly beautiful stories were denied distribution and given R ratings simply because they featured queer and trans characters.

When I went to sign-up for directing workshops, I was gently but firmly encouraged to stay in screenwriting and film theory classes, “where my talent could shine.”

“You’d do better offscreen.”

“It’s impossible for a queer woman to direct features.”

“Hollywood hates fat people.”

It took me too long to realize that compliment came laced with misogyny as I watched my male counterparts – also equally new to the craft – be encouraged to “give it a go.”

So, on the advice of my professors, I stepped away from filmmaking and dove into the literary world.

I don’t regret it for a second — I love books with my whole heart. 📚❤️

But after my queer novel Because Fat Girl debuted, I started feeling a spark toward TV and film again. I’ve been following that curiosity, and seeing where it takes me.

Recently, that spark was fanned into a flame thanks to some incredible people:

• ✨ Lani Gobaleza, who’s acting and producing film here in San Diego — showing me I don’t have to move to L.A. to pursue this dream.

• 🍿 The women creators whose shorts I saw at San Diego Film Week.

• 🎬 Sofía Palmero, who crowdfunded her short Rom Com Interrupted and goes into production this week.

• 📺 And dozens of filmmakers I met while getting my UCLA certificate in television writing — classmates and professors who supported me through every moment of doubt.

All of these people and experiences have gotten me thinking again about myself as a multimedia artist. 🎬💛

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What lens do I want to use?

As I step back into film and multimedia work, I keep asking myself:

• How do I want to share the beauty and pain I see in this world?

• What lens do I want to use?

• How can I do it flawed, messy, and imperfect?

And under it all lies the scarier questions:

Can I really do this?

Am I too old (and broke and queer and kinky and fat, etc., etc., etc.) to take on a new medium?

I’ve sat with these questions in my journal for the last year.

Over and over again, the answer to my self-doubt comes down to one word: resilience.

My path — from farmer’s daughter to filmmaker, from discouraged graduate to published author, from student to teacher — has been long and winding.

But learning to be resilient has kept me going despite the odds. ❤️

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Resilience is how I got here and it’s how I’ll get to whatever is next.

• Resilience to come back to a dream I was talked out of.

• Resilience to imagine something new for myself at this point in my life.

• Resilience to keep creating — even when the world feels chaotic, overwhelming, or just plain exhausting.

Creative resilience is how I’ve made my literary and entrepreneurial dreams come true so far, and it’s how I feel worthy of dreaming even bigger.

I’ve got a couple projects in the works that I’m so excited about, and I can’t wait to show them to you!

But until they’re ready, please know this:

I’m out here keeping my dream alive — AND supporting you in building resilience and dreaming big for yourself. 💛

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What are you dreaming of these days?

Is there a hobby you want to take up? A form of art you want to try making? An old dream you want to revise?

What’s pulling your creative heart these days?

What or who is inspiring you?

Let me know in the comments.

Whatever your dream and wherever you are in achieving it, I’m here cheering you on.

I hope that by sharing my journey, I can encourage you to bravely walk towards your dreams, however big or small. And that by giving you some inspiration, you’re able to in turn inspire someone else.

In a time of political and social upheaval, dreams help us keep hope alive and the arts tap us back into our collective humanity.

So go out there and write that poem, make that movie, or knit that sweater.

Because the world needs your story (and creativity!) now more than ever.

With love,

Lauren

P.S. Want support for your own creative resilience?

If you’re in your own season of reimagining, rebuilding, or returning to an old dream, I made something that might help: The Creative Resilience Toolkit

It’s free, and it’s full of the practices that carried me through every creative pivot. Grab your copy today.

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