After Years of Self-Performance: Why No One Wants to Be the Main Character Anymore
For years, being the "main character" was the endgame goal. Fame promised not just money and wealth, it was a fantasy world full of glitz and glam. Being seen was synonymous with being someone. No one embodied this desire more than Kim Kardashian, who built an empire and expanded her brand across tv, fashion, beauty and even law. She wanted to master the entire system of fame. And for a while, many followed her lead. We all wanted to be the main character. Pop culture sold us the dream: to be famous was to be untouchable, adored, and permanently interesting. We watched Hannah Montana live a double life and wanted to have that too. We started filming ourselves, uploading bedroom monologues to YouTube, made Tumblr accounts and curated personas, hoping someone out there would see us. Being the main character was the goal. We didn’t just want to be online. We wanted to be known.
It seemed possible because social media handed us the tools. We began narrating our lives, posting as if we were celebrities, curating stories and dumps with algorithmic precision. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok push us to perform self-expression daily. We watched pop stars like Ariana Grande, Selena Gomez and Kylie Jenner constantly producing, constantly updating, constantly optimizing. And we mirrored them. Being seen became our unpaid job. We watched YouTubers vlog their mental breakdowns and influencers post perfect morning routines, because we were actually interested in every little detail.
But lately, something has shifted. The glow has dimmed. The cultural appetite for main character energy has calmed down. We might think the crazy concept of paparazzi haunting people dow, like back in the days with Britney's breakdown, is over. The fever dream of screaming fans feels like ages ago. But the echoes linger internally. The pressure hasn't disappeared. It's performance fatigue and sensory overload. Too much noise, too many eyes, too many opinions. The internet never turns off, and neither does the gaze. It's feels psychic, a slow, unrelenting flood of input that no human nervous system was designed to endure. And some of the actual main characters of our pop cultural imagination are crashing out right now in real time, because the build-up over years of attention and public performance has simply overwhelmed the system.
Take Justin Bieber, once the golden boy of millennial pop stardom. Lately, his public appearances have been extremely concerning. Blank stares and almost aggressive disengagement from the machinery of fame. In May 2024, Bieber went viral for attending his wife Hailey's product launch looking like he wandered in from another dimension: crocs, huge sweatshorts, hoodie and zero eye contact. The internet made fun first, but under the memes was a growing sense of collective exhaustion. He seems simply... done?
Ariana Grande is visibly unraveling before our eyes. Her dramatic weight loss, empty expressions, and discomfort in interviews, where she can barely hold eye contact, suggest something deeper. She no longer radiates the tightly packaged, pop-perfect persona of her early years. Instead, she seems like someone who has burned too hot for too long in the spotlight. It's survival at this point.
After years of performing for the cameras, both professional and personal, the appeal of being the “main character” has faded. What once looked like a dream, now reveals itself as a system of constant pressure, emotional burnout and quiet collapse. Many of today’s most famous figures aren’t thriving in the spotlight anymore. The desire to be seen has turned into the need to disappear. Lana Del Rey openly questions her fame, taking extended breaks from the spotlight and drifting in and out of cultural relevance by choice. Zayn Malik, who famously left One Direction, has since withdrawn almost completely from the media, releasing music sporadically and living far from the public eye. Frank Ocean's 2023 Coachella set felt more like a whispered goodbye than a performance. The biggest Hollywood stars like Leonardo DiCaprio, turn invisibility into a lifestyle.
We used to want the world to watch us. Now, we want to vanish on our own terms. Fame hasn't just lost its shine, it's become something to escape. Even among the not-famous, the pressure to perform, to exist online, to constantly consume has become exhausting. Private profiles, the allure of “quiet luxury - No logo, no noise ,” the embrace of plain aesthetics …these aren’t just trends, but quiet acts of resistance, because they all signal a retreat from the spotlight. In our world full of constant visibility, the ability to go unnoticed is rare and resembles the new dream; To not be perceived is a privilege and the new aspirated fantasy.
by Lareen Lareen Roth-Behrendt 
