Imagine rushing through a rainy morning commute in Lagos. With each step, you mentally rehearse a highlight reel of your day, as if the passing strangers are an audience waiting to be impressed. But beneath the confident quotes and TikTok videos, the truth is that main character energy is tiring. It constantly demands a level of performance most people cannot sustain and honestly, many of us are tired.

The internet has been selling us one gleaming message for many years now, and the message says, “You are the protagonist of your life.” Romanticise everything. Walk like the streets are a runway. See your challenges as plot twists in your movie and live a life that is worth watching.

The main character energy adds pressure to always be interesting or put together. It turns ordinary days into perceived shortcomings. Instead of just living, we have shaped our lives into a narrative, to believe that life must always be a spectacle.

It sounds ridiculous when said out loud, but many of us live this way without realising it. We are so used to watching ourselves from the outside that we forget how to be.

Main character energy means being very aware of how you look, sound, and act. You often think about how an imaginary audience sees your choices. You are not only living, but you are curating. You are not only making choices, you are also seeking symbolism and narrating your life as you go. It is mentally draining.

It creates a form of internal surveillance. As if you are constantly monitoring yourself to ensure your story remains compelling. Even your vulnerability starts to feel like a performance because you are always half-aware of how it will be perceived by people.

But the truth is that most of life is not cinematic. It is repetitive, like that day-old jollof you reheat for the third time. It is quiet. It is unfiltered and often inconvenient. No one warns you that the pressure to turn your life into a spectacle can make you disconnected from your own reality.

One of the biggest burdens of the main character culture is the belief that you must always be improving and always levelling up as well as announcing your next milestone. There is no room for stillness, confusion, or stagnation, even though those seasons are normal parts of life.

You start feeling guilty for not moving fast enough and comparing yourself to those with clearer arcs. Feeling inadequate grows when your life doesn’t match the dramatic online narrative.

However, growth does not always follow a linear storyline. More often than not, it looks like waking up every day and simply trying. It appears to be healing in silence, changing your mind, and taking steps that no one else notices. It looks like survival and not spectacle. Imagine someone opting for therapy instead of broadcasting their struggles on the internet. This shows a victory that doesn’t need an audience.

Social media rarely acknowledges that the person behind the ‘main character’ still has limits. You need rest. You need softness. Most importantly, you need days without profound meaning. It is okay to disconnect and take short digital sabbaticals, giving yourself the space to recharge and find balance.

And the saddest part is that the pressure to be interesting so often makes people feel like they have to hide their ordinary humanity. Feeling tired becomes evidence that your character is not strong enough. Feeling lost becomes an aesthetic instead of an experience. Struggling becomes content instead of a cry for help.

Your real life is allowed to be imperfect. You are allowed to be unfinished. Real emotions can exist without a metaphor. You don’t have to be remarkable or inspiring all the time. You definitely do not owe anyone a storyline.

We’re All Just Trying to Survive the Plot

The fact is, most of us are not in pursuit of our next big break. We are just trying to get the year back in one piece. Life is already unpredictable as it is, with an unstable economy, mental health challenges on the rise, and everyone silent about their own battles. According to a recent study, anxiety levels have increased by over 25% globally, underscoring the urgency of addressing mental health issues amid these uncertainties.

The main character energy becomes unrealistic and less empowering when life feels heavy. Not every experience requires a lesson, nor is every disappointment to be romanticised. Some days, you are simply human, trying to get by. That should be enough.

Real freedom comes from letting go of the need to always be the main character. Real strength might be found in recognising that not every path has to be extraordinary to matter.

You will feel like the hero some days, and on other days, you will feel like an extra. Both are valid versions of you.

Main character energy is great for content, but it is not a sustainable way to live. It turns your life into a stage, your identity into a performance. And the longer you live like that, the further you drift from your own authenticity. The most powerful thing you can be, in a world obsessed with spectacle, is being real.