Sometimes I think about how fascinating it would be if my own life were like the dramas and web series I watch.
What if I were the main character?
What if every ordinary day had a little more meaning? What if the people I met were interesting, every relationship had a story behind it, every difficult moment eventually made sense, and every heartbreak somehow led to something beautiful? What if life had background music, perfect conversations, dramatic entrances and, after everything was over, a satisfying ending?
I know it sounds a little childish.
But honestly, I don’t think there is anything wrong with thinking that way sometimes.
There is something beautiful about looking at your own life and feeling like you are its main character. It can make ordinary moments feel special. Going for a walk can feel like a scene. Sitting alone with your thoughts can feel meaningful. A difficult phase can feel like a chapter rather than the entire story.
The problem begins somewhere else.
The problem begins when we stop treating fiction as fiction and start using it as a standard for real life.
I sometimes worry about this myself. If I keep watching beautifully written relationships, perfectly timed romantic moments, attractive people, exciting lives and situations that always seem to have some deeper meaning, will I eventually start expecting my own life to look like that?
And what happens when it doesn’t?
What happens when real people don’t behave like characters?
What happens when the person you love doesn’t always understand you without you explaining yourself? When conversations are awkward? When relationships go through boring phases? When people disappoint you? When opportunities don’t arrive at the perfect time? When life doesn’t give you a meaningful ending to every difficult chapter?
That is where unrealistic expectations can quietly become a problem.
Because fiction has something that real life doesn’t have: a writer.
A drama can spend six episodes building one relationship because someone has decided that the relationship is important to the story.
In real life, people have jobs, responsibilities, insecurities, bad moods, misunderstandings and completely different priorities. They don’t always say the perfect thing at the perfect moment.
A character can have flaws that make them attractive.
A real person has flaws that can sometimes genuinely hurt you.
A movie can create a conflict and resolve it in two hours.
Real life can leave you waiting for answers for years.
And perhaps the biggest difference is that fictional characters are written for us. Real people are not.
When a director says “cut,” the hero and heroine don’t continue their story after the cameras stop. They don’t secretly go home together. They don’t suddenly fall in love because the audience wanted them to. They don’t live happily ever after simply because the script says so.
The actors take off their costumes, leave the set and return to their own lives.
The story ends because the director says the story has ended.
And that simple thought helps me whenever I feel myself comparing fiction with reality too much.
I remind myself: none of this is real life.
The beautiful house, the perfect relationship, the dramatic coincidence, the perfectly timed confession, the extraordinary group of friends — these things have been carefully created to make us feel something.
And that’s exactly what fiction is supposed to do.
It is supposed to make us laugh, cry, hope, dream, feel excited and sometimes even escape our ordinary lives for a few hours.
There is nothing wrong with that.
In fact, I think we should enjoy it.
Watch the movies.
Watch the dramas.
Watch the web series.
Fall in love with the characters. Get emotionally attached to their stories. Cry when something heartbreaking happens. Smile when the couple finally gets together.
Let fiction entertain you.
Just don’t let it quietly become the blueprint for your life.
Because real life is not polished.
Real relationships are not always romantic.
Real friendships are not always exciting.
Real families are not always like the families we see on screen.
And real people are certainly not characters written to fit our expectations.
There will be days when nothing interesting happens.
There will be conversations where you don’t know what to say.
There will be relationships that feel ordinary instead of cinematic.
There will be people who don’t understand you.
There will be plans that fail without giving you a meaningful lesson.
There will be moments when life feels completely random.
And that doesn’t mean your life is bad.
It simply means you are living a real life.
I think this is particularly important for young people to understand.
Today, children and teenagers are growing up surrounded by stories — not just movies and television, but social media, short videos, influencers, romantic content and carefully edited versions of other people’s lives.
They see people who always seem happy, beautiful relationships that appear effortless, successful people who seem to have figured everything out, and lifestyles that look exciting every single day.
If they don’t understand how much of what they see has been created, edited, selected or written, they can easily start believing that their own life is somehow lacking.
And that can be dangerous.
A person may start thinking, My relationship isn’t like that, so maybe I chose the wrong person.
Or, My life isn’t exciting enough, so something must be wrong with me.
Or, Everyone else is achieving so much. Why am I still here?
Sometimes these expectations can become so strong that people begin making real decisions based on fictional standards.
They may leave good relationships because they don’t feel “perfect.”
They may chase lifestyles they cannot afford.
They may become dissatisfied with perfectly normal lives because normal suddenly feels boring.
And sometimes, the consequences can be much more serious.
This is why I think parents have an important role too.
Children shouldn’t necessarily be protected from fiction. They should be taught how to understand it.
Tell them to enjoy stories, but also tell them that stories are designed.
Tell them that people on screen are playing characters.
Tell them that relationships take work.
Tell them that real life contains boredom, confusion, failure and uncertainty — and that these things are not signs that life has gone wrong.
Most importantly, teach them the difference between inspiration and expectation.
A story can inspire you without becoming your standard.
You can watch a character who is brave and decide that you want to become braver.
You can watch a beautiful relationship and learn to value communication and respect.
You can watch someone overcome failure and become motivated to keep going.
That’s inspiration.
But expecting your real relationship, career or life to unfold exactly like a story is something completely different.
That’s expectation.
And expectations become painful when reality refuses to follow the script we created in our heads.
Perhaps the healthiest way to enjoy fiction is to let it remain what it is: fiction.
Let it give you dreams without making you dissatisfied with reality.
Let it entertain you without controlling your decisions.
Let it show you beautiful possibilities without convincing you that anything less beautiful is worthless.
Because real life has something fiction can never completely reproduce.
It has uncertainty.
It has imperfection.
It has randomness.
It has genuine human emotions that aren’t written by anyone.
And because nobody has written the ending, the moments that happen in real life can sometimes be far more meaningful than anything a writer could have planned.
Maybe being the “main character” in your life doesn’t mean having a cinematic life.
Maybe it simply means understanding that your life belongs to you.
You don’t need perfect people around you.
You don’t need every day to be exciting.
You don’t need your relationships to look like they came from a screenplay.
You don’t need a dramatic storyline to prove that your life matters.
You just need to live it.
So watch the movies. Watch the dramas. Watch the web series. Enjoy the stories. Let yourself get lost in them for a while.
But when the episode ends, come back to your own life.
The screen will go dark.
The characters will go home.
The music will stop.
And you will still be here, living your own story.
And perhaps that story doesn’t need to look like a drama to be worth watching.
It just needs to be yours.