You’re not delusional—you’re literally just protecting your peace. And maybe writing your mental breakdowns like they’re Oscar speeches, but who’s judging?
So what even is “Main Character Syndrome” anyway?
Main Character Syndrome used to be an insult. You know—someone says you think the world revolves around you because you romanticize every little moment. But for us? It’s survival. It’s turning breakdowns into breakthroughs, making grocery runs feel cinematic, and treating your healing journey like a coming-of-age montage.
And honestly? Maybe the world *does* revolve around you a little. Maybe it should.
Because if you don’t romanticize your life, who will?
There are weeks where everything sucks. The job, the boy, the vibes. And if you don’t pretend you’re the lead in a film where things get better in Act III, it’s easy to spiral. Becoming the main character isn’t about ego—it’s about control. About giving your pain a plot twist. About reminding yourself that you’re not stuck, you’re just in your character development arc.
Signs You’re Living in Your Main Character Era:
- Walking around with headphones in like you’re in a music video
- Rewriting your Notes app as if Netflix might one day option it
- Creating Pinterest boards for your emotional healing
- Saying “this is so cinematic” during a thunderstorm while crying
- Doing hot girl journaling *even when you’re not in the mood*
Main character energy is what gets you out of bed when you feel like you have nothing to give. It’s what reminds you that yes, your story matters—even when it’s messy.
How Main Character Syndrome Can Actually Heal You
It’s not just cute. There’s psychology behind it. Visualization, narrative therapy, affirmations—they all involve reframing your life as something meaningful. So when you dress up to go cry at a coffee shop? That’s not cringe. That’s coping. That’s reclaiming your narrative. That’s saying, “My pain deserves to be witnessed—even if it’s just by me.”
How to Lean Into Your Main Character Era (Without Losing the Plot)
- Set a vibe for your day. Coffee in your cute mug. Candles lit. A playlist titled something ridiculous like “healing in Paris even tho I’m in Baton Rouge.”
- Do things just for the plot. Go to the concert. Text the boy back (or don’t). Quit the job. Dye your hair. Whatever makes the next scene interesting.
- Make romantic choices, not realistic ones (sometimes). Buy the dress. Write the long caption. Take the day off. You’re not a spreadsheet, you’re a story.
- Let yourself be witnessed. Post the photo. Tell the story. Share your truth. Being seen isn’t vain—it’s vital.
Final Thoughts
Maybe being the main character is cringe. But maybe cringe is brave. Maybe it’s how we survive the in-between chapters where nothing makes sense. Because when the plot twists hit (and they always do), you’ll be ready. Dressed for the part. Narrating your comeback in real-time. And reminding yourself that you are the storyline. Always have been.
So spiral, but make it cinema. And don’t forget your lip gloss.
With romantic delusion and reverence,
—Your Chief Spiral Officer, JIW
