What if life were just another version of The Truman Show, where you’re the only real person and everyone else is an illusion?
In an age where we curate our existence like a perfectly scripted film—choosing the right shot, the perfect caption, the most aesthetically pleasing version of ourselves— this concept feels more believable than ever. Enter the Main Character Mindset: the belief that we are the protagonists of a grand narrative, the center of the story. But is it self-assurance, or just another performance?
Social media has transformed self-expression into constant presentation, all a part of the identity we construct online. There’s power in shaping our own narrative, but beneath the filters and captions lies a harder truth: Are we truly embracing who we are, or just seeking validation from people we might not even know?
The sheer scale of social media makes this question even more pressing. As of April 2024, Instagram alone had 1.628 billion active users, making it the fourth most-used platform globally. TikTok, a hub for short-form video content, had over 1.6 billion users, while Facebook remained dominant with nearly 3 billion. With endless avenues to post, share, and curate, it’s no surprise that so many feel the pressure to present a version of themselves that fits within these digital landscapes.
“It’s like you’re always onstage,” says a sophomore boarder. “You post something, but half the time, it doesn’t even feel like the real you. I mean, I post, but sometimes I wonder if I doing this for myself.”
The paradox is that while social media offers a platform for self-expression, it often turns into a mirror reflecting the expectations of others. “It’s easy to compare your all-over-the-place reality to someone else’s perfect moment,” she adds. “But then you realize: everyone’s faking a little.”
When self-expression mutates into a need for approval, something shifts. The line between authenticity and performance blurs. “I wonder if I’m just playing a role,” admits a senior boarder. “I post because I feel like I should, because everyone is.”
This pressure to maintain a polished digital persona has real consequences. What starts as confidence can quickly morph into disconnection from who we are outside the screen. Likes, comments, followers—they provide validation, but they also feed insecurity. Am I interesting enough? Am I pretty enough? Do people even care?
Yet the Main Character Mindset doesn’t have to be about performance. For someone not a part of the academic setting and completely outside in the real world, it’s not about standing out for others but about stepping fully into themselves. Roy Lu [the author’s father], sees it not as a role to play, but as a way to move through life with confidence and purpose.
“To me, this mindset means daring to be yourself—unapologetically,” Lu explains. “It’s about being driven, focused, and proud of your individuality, but also remaining caring and empathetic. It doesn’t have to be self-centered.”
Unlike students navigating school’s social dynamics and the constant pull of digital validation, Lu views the Main Character Mindset as an internal compass rather than a performance. “This character has nothing to do with others—their opinions, their expectations. It’s about your own growth.”
At its core, the Main Character Mindset isn’t inherently bad. It’s human to want to be seen, to share our lives. But when the need for validation drowns out our ability to simply be, we lose something essential: our authenticity.
“If you’re always waiting for others to tell you you’re enough, you never will be,” says the sophomore. “At some point, you have to decide—this is me, take it or leave it.”
And maybe that’s the real story worth telling.
