Why I’m choosing to be ordinary, grounded, and off-camera.
I’ll say it plainly: I’m tired.
Tired of opening my phone and feeling like everyone is auditioning.
Tired of every thought being packaged as a “take.”
Tired of people moving through the world as if they’re the main character in everyone else’s life too.
Main Character Energy used to feel empowering. Now it just feels loud… and borderline narcissistic.
Somewhere along the way, self-expression turned into self-performance. Growth became content. Healing became aesthetic. Even silence had to be explained, announced, or teased with “I’ll talk about this later.” And honestly? I don’t want to live like that anymore.
We come from cultures built on collectiveness, on family tables that are too crowded, on neighbours who know your business whether you like it or not. We like sharing but in a generous way. The way you used to share your last sandwish at school with your bestie.
Our lives were never meant to be hyper-individual, hyper-curated stories. And yet, social media taught us to act like we’re all the centre of the universe: louder, shinier, more dramatic than the next person.
It’s exhausting. It’s overwhelming. And it’s hollow.
I’m tired of people mistaking confidence for entitlement.
Tired of the assumption that everyone is watching, waiting, invested.
Tired of the idea that if a moment isn’t shared, it didn’t happen.
Here’s the truth no one wants to admit: most of life is ordinary. And that’s not a failure.
This new era isn’t about being the main character, it’s about being present. About showing up for your own life, not an imagined audience. About grounding yourself in routines, relationships, and rhythms that don’t need validation.
Being off-camera feels like relief. In fact, stepping out of the spotlight might be the most self-aware thing you can do right now.
It’s choosing presence over projection. It’s letting moments belong to you instead of the algorithm. It’s drinking coffee without photographing it. Feeling things without immediately turning them into lessons.
This isn’t about disappearing or playing small. It’s about being human again, especially in a region where resilience has always been lived, not posted.
So no, I don’t want to be the main character anymore.
I just want to be someone who’s here. Grounded. Ordinary. Real.
And maybe that’s the most radical thing we can be right now. Maybe the real character arc isn’t becoming the star of the story, but learning how to live without performing it.
