Why Are We So Obsessed With Being The Main Character?
COURTESY IMAGE // REDBUBBLE
Anyone who watches TikTok or *god forbid* Instagram Reels has most likely heard the whimsical, pillowy voiceover of a woman encouraging you to “start romanticizing your life.” She continues, “You have to start thinking of yourself as the main character.” Or maybe you get war flashbacks whenever Lana del Rey’s “Mariners Apartment Complex” starts to play. Both trends sparked an onslaught of videos by young people showcasing carefully curated and aesthetically pleasing snapshots of their lives, all while claiming to be the “main character.” This trend, along with the six billion views found under #maincharacter on TikTok should not be surprising. We all want to live our lives in such a way that others would want to buy a ticket if it were playing in theatres. However, our lives don’t follow a formulaic hero’s journey plot. So why do we expect it to play out like one?
Main character syndrome can be defined as an inflated individuality complex which culminates in someone believing that they are the protagonist in a sensationalised movie version of their lives. Let’s be honest, we’ve all probably pretended to be the main character when that one specific song comes on while we’re looking pensively out the window in the passenger’s seat of a car. That just goes to show that some moments in life can come off as cinematic, and that’s okay. Main character syndrome becomes an issue when a person starts to view their entire life as one exclusive, continual cinematic experience. Young people today have fallen into the habit of classifying certain people as “giving off main character vibes” while others around them may be viewed as supporting characters. As a “main character,” your secret crush is now the unattainable love interest who falls madly in love with you at the end of the movie, and your best friend is the quirky supportive character who always seems to be around just when you need them. If you are not fortunate enough to be given a title by the “main character,” you default to the role of an NPC, a non-playable character.
Adopting the mindset of a main character results in an unconscious objectification of those around you. Individuals are reduced to convenient plot devices who cease to exist outside of your sphere of being. This can result in a main character’s failure to be cognisant of the realities happening outside of their own reality. To approach this phenomenon from a scientific perspective, we can look at Jean Piaget’s theory of object permanence. Understanding object permanence is one of the fundamental concepts taught to infants. For example, playing “peekaboo” tests an infant’s ability to comprehend that objects continue to exist even after they can no longer see or hear them. While this approach may be simplistic, it is key to understanding the psychology of someone with main character syndrome. In short, this isn’t the “Truman Show,” the characters in your narrative don’t go on lunch break after your scene together. Maintaining this self-centred mindset may be viewed as romantic in the mind of a main character, but, in reality, it produces superficial relationships which ultimately do more harm than good. No one wants to be treated like a prop.
Main character syndrome is not unique to social media users or members of Gen Z, but the renaissance of this mindset has established a unique relationship with these groups. Current college-aged students are arguably the first generation to grow up in an era that encourages the perpetual consumption of media. We had our pick of the litter when it came to what movies or TV shows we wanted to watch. Shows like “One Tree Hill,” “Pretty Little Liars,” or literally anything from the CW network warped our expectations of what high school would be like. This laid the foundation for this generation’s budding fascination with being the main character. Now, as older members of Gen Z become adults and attend college, we are bringing what we’ve learned from these forms of media, and applying them to the collegiate sphere.
This can impact our interpretations and expectations of academic life. In the media, college is depicted through various genres that we, as the audience, then latch onto and assign meaning to. For some, expectations of college may be formed by the latest darling-indie- coming-of-age flick. Or maybe you’re expecting to be perpetually fueled by beer, throwing up in some dingy off-campus basement, like in “Animal House.” Maybe it’s been your dream to experience the rush of collegiate a cappella like the Bellas in “Pitch Perfect.” Hopefully, no one’s college expectations are based on horror classics like “Black Christmas,” “Sorority Row,” or “Scream 2.” While certainly entertaining, these narratives can skew our expectations of college life. This is because we have inadvertently been conditioned to romanticise and idealise these narratives and apply them to our own lives.
Main character syndrome within a collegiate environment is also fascinating because of its relationship to imposter syndrome. For most, college is the first step towards becoming a fully actualised, independent person. We are placed into an environment with hoards of other young people who we want to impress. While exciting, this newfound independence introduces another lovely friend: imposter syndrome. Surrounding yourself with other like- minded thinkers can introduce a lot of anxiety and self-doubt. Many people begin to feel like frauds, or like they don’t belong. This can result in an attempt to cultivate an entirely new persona. This is when imposter syndrome and main character syndrome become best friends. As we begin to cultivate a new character for ourselves, what better inspiration is there to look towards than the main characters we idolise in film and media?
This process feels scary, and puts a lot of pressure on people to live a sensationalised version of their lives. What is important to keep in mind is that everyone has a story. Sometimes life’s moments can be cinematic, other times they’re painfully boring, and some parts you just want to fast forward through. Ideally, romanticising your life as if you were thea main character should have a beneficial outcome. It can allow us to get out of our heads, live in the moment, and cherish the mundane aspects of life we’ll one day look back fondly on. Conversely, over-romanticising your life as the main character may also draw you out of reality. In this case, a person might unintentionally take a backseat view, and become a passive observer in their own movie.
The whole idea of being the main character is ironic because technically, we all are the main characters of our lives. However, believing you are the main character in everyone else’s narrative is a slippery slope towards narcissism. For Gen Zers, this is a hard mindset to unlearn. The constant influx of media throughout our entire lives, whether it be on television, film, or social media, means that the cards are stacked against us in that regard. By all means, romanticise your life—it can actually be a good thing. But please, for the love of God, stop invalidating other people’s experiences or stories just because they don’t support your personal narrative.
