Self-Love Or Self-Obsession? Why I Think 'Main Character Syndrome' Is Dangerous

There's a TikTok trend that goes something like this, walk slowly, look at the sky, wear sunglasses, sip coffee, and pretend the world revolves around you. It's charming, even liberating, for a moment. But beyond the aesthetics and viral montages, a question lingers, what happens when we actually start believing we're the main character?

Main Character Syndrome (MCS) isn't a clinical term, but it's real enough to be felt across social media and everyday life. It's the idea of imagining yourself as the star of a movie, where your struggles are the plot, your decisions are the climax, and everyone else is, supporting cast.

What is Main Character Syndrome, really? 

Main Character Syndrome is when a person sees life as a movie or narrative with themselves as the central protagonist. Their experiences are magnified, their feelings become epic, and the world becomes a backdrop for their personal story.

A little of this isn't bad. It's nice to romanticise a train ride or feel like your heartbreak is cinematic. But the danger arises when this worldview becomes dominant, when people begin to treat others as footnotes to their story rather than equals with stories of their own.

Why It Feels So Good 

We live in a time where individuality is celebrated, and often, monetised. Instagram captions like "living my truth", Pinterest boards of solo adventures, or reels with Lana Del Rey songs playing in the background all whisper one thing: You are special, you are different, you are the lead.

And let's be honest: for many people, imagining themselves as the main character can be a coping mechanism. When life feels uncertain, chaotic, or painful, seeing yourself as the hero of your story gives a sense of purpose and control. It can even be healing, especially for those who've been made to feel invisible or secondary all their lives. But therein lies the trap.

When Self-Centeredness Becomes a Philosophy 

The issue isn't with imagining yourself as important, it's with believing you're more important than others. Philosophically, Main Character Syndrome touches on egoism, the belief that one's self is, or should be, the centre of moral concern.

In a world already marked by division, self-absorption, and a growing empathy deficit, Main Character Syndrome risks deepening the illusion that others exist only in relation to you. It encourages narrative-building over reality-checking. It places aesthetics above ethics. You're no longer asking, How are they feeling? But how does this affect my story?

What Happens to Empathy? 

This is where the danger becomes real. If everyone believes they're the main character, who's left to listen? If you view your friend's bad day as a subplot in your movie, are you really seeing them, or just their impact on you?

In psychology, this shift can lead to narcissistic tendencies. But philosophically, it challenges the foundations of community, humility, and shared humanity.

Søren Kierkegaard once said, "The self is a relation that relates itself to itself." But modern self-relation has become so curated, so performative, that we risk turning genuine reflection into a brand.

Main Character vs. Moral Character 

There's also a difference between being the main character and being a moral one. One is about attention, the other is about action. The main character might shine. But the moral character changes things, for themselves and for others.

In many ways, life is less a single movie and more a series of overlapping short films. Everyone's the lead in theirs. Which means you're constantly stepping in and out of other people's stories.

The most meaningful moments often come not when we're performing for an imaginary audience, but when we forget there's one at all.

So, is Main Character Syndrome dangerous? 

Not always. Sometimes it's playful. Sometimes it's powerful. But when it slips into a way of life, when it blinds us to others' humanity, makes us impatient, or justifies cruelty, it becomes more than a trend. It becomes a threat to how we connect, care, and coexist.

So yes, Main Character Syndrome is philosophically dangerous. Because it trades shared experience for solitary spotlight. And because it teaches us to prioritise being seen over seeing others.

Live with awareness that you're part of something bigger. Romanticise your life, yes, but not at the expense of someone else's. Let your story be one of empathy, curiosity, and depth.

Sometimes, being the main character means knowing when to step back, let someone else speak, and listen without rehearsing your next line. That's not losing your spotlight. That's growing into your character.

Views expressed by the author are their own.