how to have main character energy (without changing who you are)
the unofficial guide to romanticizing your life like the stylish, layered, soulful person you are
You know that feeling when the sunlight hits your iced coffee just right, and the wind sort of whispers through your hair like you’re in an A24 film and Florence Welch is singing in the background? That’s main character energy.
It’s not about being the loudest person in the room or curating a hyper-perfect life for Instagram. It’s about claiming your moments — even the messy, unfiltered, weird ones — and realizing they’re worth noticing. Worth remembering. Worth living in fully. And let’s be honest: so many of us are craving that feeling right now. We want to feel more alive, less overwhelmed, and like our lives are meant to be lived, not just observed.
So this one’s for you: the one who still has three unwashed cups in the sink, a cart full of half-abandoned dreams on Sephora.com, and a soul full of glitter, ambition, and a weird obsession with obscure indie playlist titles. Let’s get into the art of main character energy — without faking a single thing.
act i: reframe the mundane
Main character energy doesn’t mean your life has to be thrilling — it means you decide it’s meaningful.
That trip to Trader Joe’s? Make it cinematic. Play your favorite soundtrack in the car (bonus points if it’s French or moody and orchestral), wear that jacket you usually save for special occasions, and buy the fancy olives. Why not? You are the special occasion.
Small rituals turn average days into beautiful ones. Light a candle before emails. Pick out earrings like you're getting dressed for the final act of a romantic comedy. Dance while you stir your coffee. Don’t just scroll your day away — notice it. You’ll be surprised how much beauty is waiting for you once you start looking.
act ii: move like you mean it
Main characters move with purpose — not because they know exactly where they’re going, but because they care about the path.
Whether you're walking to your car or down an actual runway (or, okay, the Whole Foods parking lot), own it. Shoulders back, phone down, eyes up. There’s something magnetic about someone who’s present in their own body.
If you’re someone who’s been hunching over a screen for too long (guilty), this is your sign to stretch. To feel your physical self again. To walk slowly. Walk confidently. And yes, to occasionally pretend you’re in an Audrey Hepburn movie where every footstep matters.
act iii: style for the plot
Fashion isn't about perfection — it’s about telling your story. So what story are you telling?
There’s something rebellious about dressing for yourself. Not the algorithm, not your coworkers, not the imaginary audience in your head (okay, maybe a little). But really dressing in a way that makes you feel you. Even if it’s a black turtleneck, gold hoops, and red lipstick at 10 a.m. on a Wednesday.
Build your outfits like they’re dialogue. A sweater that says “don’t mess with me but I’ll still hug you.” A bag that looks like you thrifted it in Paris (even if it was from eBay at 2 a.m.). A pair of shoes that says “this is my era.”
Pro tip: When you feel like a side character in your own life, wear something dramatic. Even if it’s just eyeliner. Bonus points for something vintage, silky, or sparkly. Fashion is emotional armor and playful expression, all in one.
act iv: curate your soundtrack
Music sets the tone. Literally.
You know those scenes in movies where the protagonist looks out the window, all reflective and moody and windswept? They don’t hit without the music.
Create a playlist for your life. “Romanticizing Laundry.” “Hot Girl Walk But Existential.” “Getting Over It & Glowing Up.” Add songs that make you feel powerful, soft, chaotic, grounded — all of it. Then play them like your life depends on it. Because sometimes it kind of does.
Let your morning song set the tone. Your commute track reset your energy. Your solo dinner playlist remind you that being alone is a vibe, not a flaw.
act v: embrace your weird
The best main characters are never the most perfect ones — they’re the ones who are delightfully, unapologetically weird.
Be the girl who talks to her plants, keeps a running list of her dreams in her Notes app, and names her car. Wear glitter to the dentist. Cry at commercials. Laugh at yourself. Start collecting strange mugs. Say things like “This is giving Jane Austen but make it modern.”
Being “cool” is overrated. Being real is irresistible.
If you're feeling disconnected from yourself, go do something weird and joyful that no one will understand except you. Build a fort and read a book in it. Bake a cake and decorate it terribly but proudly. Watch an old movie from the 60s in full glam. That’s soul stuff.
act vi: know when to disappear
Main characters don’t show up to every scene. Sometimes they take a break — and the plot deepens.
Rest isn’t laziness. It’s plot development.
Take yourself offline for an afternoon. Go silent for a night. Journal. Sleep in. Say no. Heal. Then come back with more to say, more to feel, and less to prove.
You don't have to be “on” all the time. That’s not main character energy — that’s burnout. Real MCE means knowing when to take a step back and let the world turn without you while you nourish your inner world.
act vii: find your side characters
Every main character has a supporting cast that makes the story better.
Surround yourself with people who cheer you on when you’re shining and sit with you when you’re spiraling. The friends who remind you who you are when you forget. The ones who send memes, light candles for you, and drag you out for spontaneous oat milk lattes and life talks.
Invest in your people. Be that friend who says “Text me when you get home” and “You’re too good for them” and “I brought wine and snacks.”
Life isn’t a solo story. Find the ones who help you carry the plot.
act viii: let the plot twist
Spoiler alert: the best main character arcs come after everything goes sideways.
When things fall apart, resist the urge to fast-forward. Main characters don’t skip scenes. They feel. They rage. They cry. They rise.
That heartbreak? It’s a catalyst. That job loss? A redirection. That awkward, lowkey humiliating moment at the coffee shop? It’s a funny story for later — or maybe even a defining moment.
Let it change you. Let it refine your values, redirect your energy, and reshape your desires. And keep going. The best chapters always come after the ones that feel like chaos.
epilogue: it’s not about being the star — it’s about noticing the story
Main character energy isn’t about perfection or performance. It’s about presence.
It’s knowing you can be both the girl crying on the kitchen floor at midnight and the woman glowing with confidence the next morning. You can have chipped nails, an anxious brain, and still deserve flowers, magic, and applause. You don’t have to be polished — just present.
So, wear the red lipstick for no reason. Take photos of your iced matcha like it’s a sculpture. Say yes to dancing in the kitchen and crying in your car and starting new chapters on a random Tuesday.
Your story is already art. You’re already the main character. Now go live like it.
With much love and authenticity,
Kaitlyn Millet @ The Vogue Muse
I really enjoyed reading this
It was very enlightening, and exhilarating!