“Main character energy”
It started as a meme - a cultural wink, a vibe, a tongue-in-cheek way of owning confidence. We saw it on TikTok, on reels, in captions, in fashion - people proclaiming their right to be bold, dramatic, self-directed. It became aspirational. But beneath the trend lies a deeper psychological truth: many of us are longing to feel like we are the protagonists of our own lives. Not spectators. Not side characters. Not passive recipients of someone else’s script.
As a mental health practitioner, I’ve come to see “main character energy” not just as a pop culture catchphrase, but as a window into healing.
In therapy, we often talk about narrative - the stories we tell ourselves about who we are, what has happened to us, and what is possible. For those who have experienced trauma, chronic invalidation, or environments where their needs were minimized, this narrative can feel hijacked. They may describe feeling like they’re floating through life, like they’re just going through the motions, or living out someone else’s expectations.
Stepping into “main character energy” in therapy can mean reclaiming authorship. It is the moment when a client says, “this isn’t working for me anymore” - and means it.
It’s when someone starts asking why they’ve been making certain choices, and what they actually want. It’s not always loud or confident.
Often, it starts in whispers.
It is easy to confuse “main character energy” with performance - curated aesthetics, perfect confidence, flawless comebacks. But in therapy, we recognize something different - presence. The ability to be with your experience. To feel your feelings, make intentional decisions, and stay connected to yourself - even when things are messy.
“Main character energy” is not about being in control of everything. It’s about recognizing that you still matter even when life is uncertain. Even when you’re grieving, confused, or afraid, It’s about coming back to your values, your agency, and your voice.
Living in main character energy doesn’t mean everything gets easier - but it does mean we begin to make different choices.
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We learn to set boundaries because not everything or everyone deserves a recurring role
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We rewrite limiting beliefs, ones that told us we had to earn our worth or stay small to stay safe
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We begin to make meaning - not by passing pain, but by weaving it into a fuller story of resilience and identity.
Sometimes, “main character energy” is quiet defiance: eating lunch alone, saying no without over-explaining, or choosing rest over productivity. Sometimes, it’s choosing to believe in a future you can’t yet see.
While “main character energy” is misunderstood as arrogance or self-obsession - but from a therapeutic standpoint, it is often the opposite. It’s about integration. It’s about recognizing the pain you’ve been through and allowing yourself to imagine joy. It’s about acknowledging the role you’ve played to survive - people-pleaser, fixer, silent observer - and realizing that none of them have to define you forever.
When clients say things like,
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“I think I get to choose now”,
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“I don’t have to keep proving myself”,
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“I want more for myself, even if I’m scared”, those are main character moments.
And they’re quite revolutionary.
A Note on Compassion:
Not everyone can access this energy all the time. And that’s okay. There are chapters in life - due to trauma, oppression, illness, or grief - where even surviving is heroic. In those moments, you’re still the main character. Not because everything feels in your control, but because you are showing up, even when it’s hard. Therapy can offer a space to reconnect with this truth. To reimagine your story. To meet yourself not with critique, but compassion.
In closing, “main character energy” is not just a trending phrase - it is a reflection of something deeply human: the need to feel seen, empowered, and connected to ourselves. In the therapy room, we hold space for this not as performance - but as reclamation.
You’re not a background character in your life. And you don’t need to wait for permission to take up space in your own story.
You already belong there.