Ellie looks back on her journey, figures out some things, and takes a huge leap of faith.

After a big loss, a bigger loss, and a failed attempt to be 22 again, Ellie looks back at a time when she grew into herself, which is maybe what “growing up” actually means? 

Big changes! Highs and lows! Engagements galore! Ellie starts to suspect that she might be slightly responsible for her own behavior, which sounds far-fetched but hear her out.

Ellie finally settled down, sort of, kind of? She reviews videos and messages from a time of confusion, periods of joy, and a room full of Dereks. 

As her friends coupled up, Ellie recalls finding herself stuck hanging out with undateables, like herself. But just because her friends settled down doesn’t mean Ellie wasn’t still the life of the party, even if she didn’t know anyone at the party anymore.

Ellie reflects on dating in her early 20s, and recounts some of the winners she dated, to whom she most definitely did NOT send nudes and you cannot prove otherwise. 

Ellie reviews her college years, reflects on the momentous meeting of a lifelong friend, and humiliates her first love for time immemorial.

As a virus begins deleting data all over the world, Ellie Leafe decides to make an analog audio record of her life. She starts with the videos from her childhood and teenage years, reliving all of her firsts: first steps, first kiss, first rejection of the patriarchy. They say an awkward childhood makes a cool adult and judging by how awkward these videos are, Ellie must be the coolest adult on the planet. 

When a global computer virus begins deleting all digital records, 30-something Ellie (Natalie Morales, Parks & Rec) buys an old tape recorder and begins narrating an “analog” retrospective of her life before all of her photos, videos, and correspondence are wiped out forever.