Main Character Energy!

#30smallthingsfromabigheart

I grew up with full-blown main character energy.

There was never a moment in my teenage years when I didn’t believe that everything was happening because of me, for me, or was somehow about me. The world was, quite literally, my stage.

Every time my brother ditched me to hang out with the neighbourhood gang, I’d retreat to my room and cry—just for five minutes, sitcom-style. You know, by the window, so hopefully someone could see me, playing sad music in the background. But once I was done, I would change my own vibe. I would play some fun music and dance away. Completely forgetting having been ditched.

Everytime my parents would fight, I would cast myself as this poor, little, victim child who everyone would pat and say “What a brave girl” when they met me. Making me want to be this brave girl who would then shed her victim robes and blossom into a “heroine”

Everytime I went for a drive, it was like a movie in my head. I was either driving away from my family, heartbroken and miserable, with “All by myself” playing on my walkman. Or I was being driven to the airport to catch the love of my life before he left the country, and I would play “You’re still the one” and feel all sorts of feels.

But it was when I went partying with the girls that I was in my ultimate ‘main character’ element. I would stand at the entrance in my cute af outfit for a second, imagining the party had stopped because everyone was checking me out. I was the life of that party. I would dance on bar tops, shouting out the lyrics to songs, shoes long forgotten. I would smile at cute boys but stay inside my circle of girls. Every eye contact I made, my brain made a little story about them: boy, girl, anyone and everyone!

Nothing could touch me. I was Reese Witherspoon meets Anne Hathaway with Kate Hudson energy.

My walkman always had music appropriate for all of my thousand moods and stories. Heartbreak songs, falling in love songs, wanna jump off the bridge (but not really) songs, angry, frustrated songs.

I didn’t just live my life—I directed, scored, and starred in it too.

And then, somewhere along the way—I'm not even sure when—I stopped being the main character.

I become —just a girl.

A girl who was married, who had a job, who had a baby.

Who packed up her house multiple times to shift homes, move cities, even.

Who carried anxiety around in her back pocket, along with slivers of depression tucked away in her bags for a really bad day.

I became the girl who was friends with ‘main character’ energy people. You know the supporting cast.

The husband? Oh, he is ‘main character’ energy. He walks around like he owns the world. In his life, I’m the sweet wife who stands by and cheers him on.

My kid? Now he is a star. He’s the ultimate ‘main character’ with a soundtrack of his own! In his life, I’m the soccer mom who drives him around while he achieves all his dreams.

So my life basically is just a side character. And it sucks big time. I really hate it. There are days I wake up and feel like today is going to be different, I’m going to channel all of my energy and charm from when I was 24, and just pour it into the day.

And I do… till I don’t!

I don’t because 42 hits differently. Suddenly, I’m exhausted after doing nothing. Or start to spiral because of a random trigger. Before my soundtrack even starts, it ends. And I curse myself for trying to garner that kind of teenage, early 20s energy into this body and mind.

But here is the thing.

Maybe the storyline could change, the soundtrack could be more mellow and chilled out. Maybe I don’t have to have that energy, and that is ok.

I think I’m going to channel my Diane Keaton, Helen Mirren, meets Olivia Coleman energy.

And maybe—just maybe—this chapter is where I reclaim the narrative.

Because who says the second act can’t have a twist?

P.S.: Yes, I am very aware they are all major “main character” energies in their 50s to 70s, but man, I love them! And if I can channel even a quarter of their energies, I’ll be a happy kitty!