If Our Lives Were a Movie

WRITTEN BY ALICIA KOCH, FOUNDER OF THE LEGAL BELLETRIST 

Rated ‘U’ for Unexpected: A Love, Actually Remake Starring Me, a Bear, and a Maine Coon

As a certified, card-carrying love fool – the kind who still believes Hugh Grant can dance and that a handwritten sign is the peak of romantic communication – I decided to view my year through the soft-focus, ensemble-cast lens of Love, Actually. It seemed fitting. I am a complete romantic, I always root for the underdog (usually me and my perpetually swollen joints), and frankly, my life often feels like a series of interconnected, slightly chaotic subplots that sometimes involve airport scenes that drag on too long.

This year’s production was an emotional rollercoaster, complete with a heartwarming soundtrack, a pivotal Christmas pageant scene (metaphorically speaking), and enough anti-inflammatories and painkillers to sedate a small elephant.

The Prime Minister and the Tea Lady (That’s Me and My Boundaries)

My main plotline, much like the Prime Minister’s awkward-but-charming romance with the tea lady, Natalie, was learning to put myself first and establish some much-needed boundaries. I spent years being the human equivalent of a revolving door for other people’s dramas, other people’s outrageous lies, always apologetic, always in pain, but perpetually available for a crisis I didn’t create.

This year, the door was firmly shut and possibly reinforced with hardened steel, much to the chagrin of my autoimmune system, which decided to throw a flare-up party every time I used the word “no.” My anxiety disorder provided a running commentary from the sidelines: “Are you sure you should have said that? They hate you now. You’re going to die alone.” (My anxiety is a dramatic diva. Much like me).

The result? A rather surprising revelation about my supporting cast. The people who complained about the new boundaries turned out to be the ones using the revolving door as a shortcut. The friends who stayed? They brought casseroles, respected the “Do Not Disturb” sign, and didn’t mind when I cancelled plans because my psoriatic arthritis decided my ankle looked like a balloon. It turns out that true friendship, much like good lighting in a British rom com, doesn’t need constant negotiation. It just works.

Sarah and Karl (The Family Plot Twist)

My Sarah/Karl storyline was perhaps the most poignant and least-dramatic heartbreak of the year. Sarah is the lovely woman who puts her life on hold for her institutionalised brother, sacrificing her chance with Karl, the gorgeous office crush. It’s a beautifully painful subplot about duty and impossible timing.

My twist, however, was about redefining “family.” I had to accept a hard truth – some family can’t be chosen, and sometimes, they choose not to choose you back. The phone call that interrupts the perfect romantic moment with Karl is a painful reality check.

But here’s the unexpected cinematic magic: other family members, whom I’d never been particularly close to in my sordid past, stepped into the void and became everything to me. It was a beautiful, quiet realisation that connection is measured not in shared DNA, but in shared presence. My “Karl” moment was a pivot toward people who answered the phone when I called, rather than letting it ring out.

They also send rather cute cat videos via Instagram and WhatsApp. I’m lucky like that.

Jamie and Aurélia (Telling My Clients the Truth)

Jamie (Colin Firth) learns Portuguese for Aurélia, the beautiful housekeeper he can barely communicate with. It’s a grand, slightly mad gesture of connection.

In my professional life, I had my own “learn Portuguese” moment. Instead of jargon and corporate-speak, my “Portuguese” was vulnerability. Telling clients my truth – setting realistic expectations, admitting when my chronic illness meant I needed more time, and being transparent about my capacity. It felt incredibly risky, especially with my depression whispering that I was surely about to be fired.

The result? Stronger, deeper, and more respectful relationships. They didn’t fire me. Instead, they appreciated the honesty. We’re no longer just colleagues, we’re a united front against deadlines. Who knew honesty was the ultimate business development tool?

The Sidekick: Georgia Peach

Every leading lady needs a fabulous sidekick. Mine wasn’t the delightfully sassy Love, Actually assistant, Mia. I have a full “Hairy Board of Directors.” I am a mother of cats, four perfect creatures who demand tribute and offer unconditional moral support.

Special mention is to my Georgia Peach, my soul cat, and a majestic Maine Coon kitty. She is the quiet observer of my grand romantic gestures and dramatic boundary-setting. She was the hairy, purring anchor during every emotional scene, reminding me that the world looks better from the top of the refrigerator, and that all problems can be temporarily solved by demanding treats. Great minds think alike in that way.

The other three – well, they mostly just reminded me that if I collapse in pain, they might eat my face, but they’d probably feel bad about it later. They taught me that sometimes the best form of support is simply curling up next to someone and not judging their choice of rom-com or the staggering amount of pain relief on my bedside table.

My Happily Ever After: Big Bear and the Matchmaking Kitty

My life is a movie where I hit the jackpot in love, although it wasn’t always this way. In a previous subplot, my first cat, Hugo Boss, a big ginger kitty with excellent taste in suitors, actually helped me choose my husband. He just knew.

And my husband, whom I lovingly call Big Bear, showed up this year – as he always does (truly) – in so many ways. He’s the quiet hero who doesn’t need a spotlight, but who ensures the show goes on. He’s the safe harbour when the autoimmune storm rages, the one who patiently listens to my anxiety’s dramatic monologues. Our love story is the stable, grounding storyline that balances out my personal chaos.

And when in doubt he supplies ice-cream. And that works too.

What I Learned in the Final Reel

As the credits prepared to roll on my year, I looked back at the messy, beautiful montage of my life. The scenes involving severe joint pain and depressive episodes didn’t make the final cut, but their lessons certainly remained.

I learned to be kinder to myself and those in my immediate circle. It’s a small cast, but a stellar one. I learned patience – everyone truly does get what they deserve, though sometimes the universe’s delivery schedule is slower than international airmail at Christmas.

And the biggest takeaway? The truth will out. It always does. You can’t hide behind flimsy excuses or avoidance forever. Honesty, with others and especially yourself, sets you free. Usually in slow motion, and possibly to a Sugababes song.

As we all prepare to dash through our respective airport terminals to meet our future selves, I gently invite you to reflect on your own blockbuster year with compassion, humour (most definitely), and a sense of closure. What was your main plot twist? Who was your unlikely sidekick? What truth finally found its way out?

Grab a box of tissues, cue the festive music, and let’s end this year in a way that makes us feel good about what’s to come in 2026. This is our cinematic homecoming. Remember: Love (of self, boundaries, very large cats, a supportive Big Bear, and a decent pain management plan), actually, is all around.

Happy reflecting and Merry Christmas!