All the World's a Stage

on embracing main character energy

Last weekend I had lunch with an old friend, someone I’ve been close with for almost a decade but only see every few years because of our respective tendencies to make an international move when the vibes in the US feel off (classic first-gen activities, IYKYK). “Okay, main character,” she hyped me as I arrived at the restaurant, slightly overdressed in something bright pink, as has become my custom. As usual, we launched into a deeply healing, monumental debrief of the last couple years of our lives, the kind that forces a “damn, I’m really in this bitch” bout of introspection after the fact, the kind of conversation reminds you that the seemingly endless boring days are actually adding up to something, and that something is your life. After some hours, we prepared to part ways again – she had a flight to catch – but before she ducked into her Uber she gave me probably the best compliment I’ve ever received: “It’s so good to see you become you.” I’m still high off it a week later. 

It has not been easy to get here, and if you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while – or undergone your own “healing journey” – you know what I mean. And while I’d never thought of it in these terms before our catch-up, she’s right: I did have to embrace being the main character (and director, and producer, and writer, and set designer etc.) of my life to get here. Historically, I am a proud proponent of side character energy, as I once declared. For many years, I preferred to turn a look and deliver a funny one-liner before going on my merry way, devoid of the character development and personal growth that being a true protagonist requires. But embodying side character energy creates a side character life: a life where things just happen to you to serve someone else’s plot, a life where you are a tool for enriching others’ narratives with no interiority or momentum of your own. (Any retired people pleasers in the room? 🙋🏾‍♀️)