You Actually Are the Main Character
Using literary theory and philosophy to prove you're the center of the story
“Main Character Energy” gets tossed around a lot these days.
It’s become online shorthand for being self-absorbed and egotistical... the person who overshares on X or Instagram or TikTok, monologues in every group setting, and just generally makes everything about them. It’s usually meant as an insult...
But having “main character energy” doesn’t have to be about ego to the detriment of those around you. Everyone needs a supporting cast of characters — sidekicks, lovers, family, friends, mentors, mentees — as much as boogeymen, villains, tyrants, monsters, and bosses.
George Berkeley philosophized about how reality only exists because you perceive it — and how reality might not even exist at all. There’s no way to prove there’s any material characteristic of the world because what you think is real could simply be (well, literally is) just a hodgepodge of electric signals firing off inside a fleshy computer inside your skull.
Immanuel Kant similarly talked about the noumenon vs. the phenomenon — the idea that we can never access the “thing-in-itself,” only the filtered version our minds present to us. Reality is mediated. You don’t experience the world directly… you experience your perception of it. This aligns with Berkeley’s view that reality exists only as we perceive it, suggesting our minds construct the stage on which we act as protagonists. Together, these ideas set the scene for a deeper question: how do others fit into our story?
It’s interesting to think… what if the universe is literally revolving around you? It appears as if it’s not because of how things move relative to each other… but you can only perceive the universe from your own head… where your head physically is… not others.
Then Jean-Paul Sartre discussed the “problem of other people,” which explores this point more deeply — how other people are both real and unknowable, and how your perception of them perceiving you, which he called The Look, changes how you think and behave.
What he meant is… the moment someone else appears, you're no longer just you in your own thoughts. You're you being seen by another. You change and become self-conscious of yourself. You immediately start playing a role — maybe subtly or subconsciously, maybe completely consciously — because someone else is observing you. Their look defines you in a way you can't fully control.
In that moment someone is seeing you, you’re no longer just the protagonist of your internal movie. You become an object in that someone’s movie too… a character they’ve cast, over which you have limited, if any, discretion or control.
And they’re doing the same thing to you that you’re doing to them. You don’t truly know what they’re thinking, and you never can. You only exist in your own head. So you end up assigning them a role — a friend, a threat, a love interest, a potential sidekick — based on a tiny sliver of what you perceive. And maybe based more on what character you need them to be in your story than who they actually are. You try to sculpt their character development based on what characters you feel you want or need in your own storyline.
Sartre would say you’re both now protagonists in your own films… while also playing supporting roles in each other’s… which means there's no single objective reality at all — just overlapping narratives, written, directed, and starred in by entirely different people residing on the same stage.
So if we synergize Sartre, Kant, and Berkeley — that we can only perceive our own reality… that we can’t ever know if anything else exists beyond our perception… and that we invent characters of other people just like other people are inventing characters of us… then are we not literally the main character? And — to the best of our objective knowledge — the only main character?
OK, so what do we do with our “main character energy?”
If our perceptions script our reality and cast others in our story, then how we view challenges.. like risking a new venture or defying some odds in our lives.. shapes the plot we live out. I often talk about privilege in the context of starting a business. In the world of entrepreneurship and “quitting your high-paying job to go solo” talk, I’ll either contend with — or be self-aware enough to be reminded — that not everyone can just “quit their jobs” and pursue a freer lifestyle, especially if they have a family. Of course, that’s correct. There is a lot of hard and smart work that needs to be done first — because in doing so, you increase your luck surface area. I’m not sure who said it officially, but…
I am a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work, the luckier I get.
Yet systemic barriers — whether it be poverty, discrimination, or trauma — can make “working harder” feel a bit shallow and out of touch. For those born into such circumstances, claiming “main character energy” might seem impossible or even painful. But even in the darkest narratives, small acts of defiance like pursuing education or a simple first job against all odd… or fighting hard to access a community of winners or mentors… can shift the story meaningfully and then compound on itself. Your perception, however constrained or even oppressed, is still the lens through which you write your narrative.
So then is it fair to suggest that this positive thinking doesn’t apply to everyone all of the time?
If you are born in a gutter with absolutely nothing to your name — or perhaps you had something and then lost it all in horrible fashion — does that mean it’s impossible to increase your luck surface area? To turn your luck around? You’re not your own main character anymore? Recovery and rebirth can be extremely difficult. But it’s possible. And many of the greatest stories ever told are about overcoming the impossible.
Now on the flipside — someone born into splendor, who has everything they ever wanted, born with a silver spoon, beautiful, strong, smart, lucky — these people can’t fall from high? They can’t crash and burn? It can’t all come spiraling down? Of course it can. Those are called tragedies.
So I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately — and it brought me back to a book written in 2004 by Christopher Booker called The Seven Basic Plots… and how we can apply what it reveals to our own lives. To help us determine what story arc we might already be on without consciously realizing it — because we don’t usually think about our lives as a story in that way. But maybe we should. Or how we can exercise the inner agency we all have and switch stories — to another one more suitable, more interesting, or more aligned with who we’re trying to become.
In the book, Booker argues that almost every story ever written — or that can even ever be told — is just one of seven available narrative arcs:
Overcoming the Monster – A hero faces a great evil or challenge, often risking everything to defeat it. Think Jaws, Beowulf, or battling illness.
Rags to Riches – The protagonist rises from obscurity or hardship to success, only to face a crisis that tests their growth. Classic use in Cinderella, Aladdin, or even some startup founder journeys.
The Quest – A group or individual sets out on a long journey to achieve a goal, facing trials and allies along the way. The Lord of the Rings and most road trip movies follow this one.
Voyage and Return – The hero enters an unfamiliar world, encounters conflict or transformation, and returns wiser or changed. Seen in Alice in Wonderland or traveling abroad then coming home.
Comedy – This is actually about confusion, conflict, and mistaken identities that resolve in harmony or reunion — of course often resulting in laughs. Shakespeare used this constantly (Twelfth Night, Much Ado). Think romantic comedies too.
Tragedy – A character is brought down by their flaws, choices, or fate. The arc ends in loss, destruction, or despair. Macbeth, The Great Gatsby, or downfalls brought about by addiction or ego.
Rebirth – The protagonist hits a low point but is redeemed or transformed into a new version of themselves. A Christmas Carol, Beauty and the Beast, or personal stories of rock bottom to recovery.
This is the real Main Character Energy. It’s less about “making it all about you” than accepting the reality that it is about you — even if not all about you. You only know the world exists because you perceive it exists.
If you’re ever feeling lost or down, use this thinking to locate yourself on the page of a great story — one with a great ending. And if you’re riding high, use this same thinking to remember that even the best arcs can twist. That it could all come crashing down.
But even if it did… whether your story ends as a tragedy or a rebirth is still up to you.