Finding Myself Through Cinema: How Coming-Of-Age Films Mirror My Own Journey

Cinema has always had the unique ability to transform us by encapsulating pivotal snippets of a human’s life—the vulnerable moments between childhood to adolescence and adulthood. There is no better genre to showcase these principle rites of passage than coming-of age films. The best coming-of-age films resonate deeply with viewers because they mirror vital experiences we struggle with articulating ourselves. In their own distinct ways, the following underrated films listed in this article charted the emotional progression from an imaginative childhood to uncertain adulthood for my own life, in a way that I believe can be universally recognizable for many.

As a kid who spent her formative childhood years braving the sweltering hot summers in Tampa, Florida, a film like Sean Baker’s, The Florida Project, creates a perfect nostalgic snapshot of what it truly means to thrive on imagination in the South. The 1 hour 51 minute film follows six-year-old Moonee and her young single mother, Halley, one summer, as the family struggles to live paycheck to paycheck in the “The Magic Castle” motel–finding any means to make money. It is clear that joy exists in spite of instability as magic becomes a concept children invent for themselves. Watching this film is like a portal into my own life, reminiscing on the wistful past saturated with rose-tinted glasses.

Weekly, without fail, I would bike with my friends on any humid afternoon to the local 50s-themed ice cream shop that sold sickly sweet cups of sugar for 2 dollars—at least for that price more than a decade ago. Our block of houses would likewise host water gun fights for four hours, while the cicadas sang and the sun dropped below the horizon into a murky red tint. It was in these small “dog day” moments that time felt suspended and the only concerns on our minds were when it was time for our curfew…the entire world stood still. 

Moonee and her friends' elated reactions to getting money for a Twistee Treat excursion remind me exactly of how I felt at six years old, gripping a few crumpled dollar bills with a grin from ear to ear full of sticky ice cream. The true brilliance of The Florida Project lies in how it cleverly captures this idea of childhood innocence and logic—where a simple ice cream cone shared among three friends or spontaneous adventure along abandoned streets can feel monumental. For older viewers, the film’s stark environment at a budget-friendly motel on the highway outskirts of Orlando defines the film for its harsh reality. However, to Moonnee, her world is defined by an amusement park of semi-abandoned buildings and explorations of the marshy backlands. Every time I return to this film, I’m reminded that even amidst the turmoil of the adult world, beauty, and, more importantly, joy, can exist and thrive in the smallest fragments of everyday life. 

Another influential—and somewhat traumatizing—time of my life was middle school, where the canonical rites of passage of braces, cringeworthy school dances, and stubborn acne all happened in a chaotic blurry mess. A coming-of-age film that captures this transitional purgatory with startling accuracy is Sean Wang’s, Dìdi: a film that I firmly believe was absolutely snubbed at the 2025 Academy Awards. The protagonist, Chris Wang (“Wang Wang,” according to his friends), is a 13-year-old half-Taiwanese, half-American kid living in Fremont, California. As this takes place the summer before ninth grade, Chris uses his free time to hangout with his friends, practice filming skateboarding tricks, and engage in frivolous delinquent crimes throughout the suburban neighborhood. 

While I may have only theoretically been 2 years old during the film’s 2008 setting, the nod to MySpace, poorly made early-internet videos, and outdated juvenile slang still had me reeling in laughter with a slight tinge of secondhand nostalgia. This perfectly captured even my own hysterical trials and tribulations with the internet and social media into early adolescence (when my frontal lobe had developed a bit more and I was finally able to put it to some good use!). 

Although most would consider this a light-hearted film, there are poignant scenes that director Sean Wang utilizes to further explore the loneliness and isolation felt by a child of two clashing cultures. Chris’s world at home begins to crumble as his mother grapples with the responsibility of raising a household without their father. At the same time, Nai Nai (the grandmother) represents the aspects of their culture that begin to take a toll on the family, assimilation and fear of losing tradition, causing her to constantly argue with Chris’s mother on how he should be raised. Watching Chris endure these growing tensions made me reflect on my own tumultuous relationship with my cultural identity growing up. Being from a Puerto-Rican and Anglo-American background, there is a confusion and self-contradiction that comes with existing in two incredibly diverse cultural experiences. I never felt quite 100% part of either one. Dìdi does a painstakingly beautiful and authentic job of expressing this longing to fit in with the crowd of friends who seem comfortable in their own identities and the silent realization that this part of yourself cannot be separated; and shouldn’t need to be.

Finally, as a 19-year-old college student wedged within the strange crevice of being a full-fledged responsible adult and still feeling like an awkward, oblivious teenager that has to call her parents about her insurance provider, a film like The Worst Person in the World perfectly sums up my internal dilemma of indecisiveness with uncomfortable precision. Directed by Joachim Trier, the film follows Julie, a young woman wandering through relationships, diverse career choices and ambitions as she frantically searches for a version of herself that finally feels stable. This film in particular stood out to me because it is not an obvious stereotypical “coming-of age” film that usually tends to focus on adolescents, but rather reveals that this defining moment can happen at any point in life and that early adulthood is, arguably, as confusing of an experience when it comes to feeling fully established within the world. 

I recently viewed this tragicomedic movie for the first time this past spring and was struck by the emotional clarity and toll it took on me. Julie’s own indecisiveness, already seen within the first few minutes of the film, permeates her sphere of influence both socially and intellectually. She is always in a state of paralysis by fear that her ideal life she strives for might exist just beyond the fence of previous choices she’s already made…a feeling I know too well. The current state of my life feels increasingly intense and overstimulating as I try to balance my expectations, dreams, and realistic goals in my mind. 

At nineteen, adulthood feels altogether imminent yet extremely distant. I see the people around me applying to internships, declaring concentrations, being in committed relationships, becoming inevitable Linkedin warriors, and already having a post-graduate pathway splayed out beautifully for themselves. This transition in college is beyond disorienting and offers me no clarity for my own anxious qualms for the future.  

What makes The Worst Person in the World so emotionally effective is the refusal to define uncertainty as a form of failure. Trier claims that “the worst person in the world” label, in this case, just means being unapologetically human, including all the unflattering messiness of attempting to search and question where we belong whilst going through the unexpected detours of life. 

What will be the next symbolic film for the future chapter of my adulthood? Who’s to know…I guess only time, and the movies, will tell.