A Masterclass in Delusions of Grandeur: How to Be the Main Character in Every Room (Even When No One Asked)
I know someone who deserves a standing ovation. Not for any particular achievement, mind you. No, this person has perfected the fine art of existing as the absolute main character at all times, no matter the setting, no matter the context. It’s truly a gift—this ability to turn any situation into a personal showcase, as if life itself were a TED Talk they were born to give.
A few days ago, in a casual conversation about, of all things, potholes, they somehow managed to pivot the discussion into a monologue about their own unparalleled expertise in urban infrastructure. Do they work in city planning? No. Have they ever so much as filled a crack in a driveway? Also no. But they did once get into a heated email exchange with a city official about a pothole outside their gym, and now they are essentially an honorary civil engineer.
This is a pattern. A science. A craft. They have mastered:
The 'I Actually Know More Than the Experts' Phenomenon – Whether it’s medicine, politics, quantum physics, or baking a cake, they always know better than the trained professionals who’ve dedicated their lives to the subject. And if an actual expert dares to correct them? Well, obviously, that person is biased.
How to Accept an Award They Were Never Given – Someone else lands a big promotion? They’ll remind you that they almost worked at that company once. A friend runs a marathon? They could have done it, but, you know, bad knees. They are the human embodiment of “I could’ve gone pro if I hadn’t torn my ACL.”
The Incredible Disappearing Apology – They do not say sorry. They do say things like, "I'm sorry you misunderstood me," or "I'm sorry you’re upset," or, my personal favourite, "I'm sorry, but you need to calm down." What a gift it must be to glide through life unburdened by self-awareness.
Public Humility, Private Smugness – They will say, “Oh, I hate being the centre of attention,” while simultaneously ensuring that every conversation circles back to them like a poorly written TV show subplot that just won’t end.
How to Survive the Narcissist Tantrum – The true mark of their craft: what happens when you don’t play along.Try it sometime—deny them their moment. Shrug off their grandstanding. Watch the light dim in their eyes as they realize you are not taking the bait. Then brace yourself for the fallout:
Stage One: Confusion. (“Wait, why aren’t you validating me?”)
Stage Two: Passive-aggressive comments. (“Wow, someone’s in a mood today.”)
Stage Three: The sulking, the martyrdom, the dramatic exit.
Stage Four: The smear campaign. Congratulations! You are now the villain in their story.
I used to think this was intimidating—this absolute conviction that they are, at all times, the most interesting and intelligent person in the room. But now? Now it just makes me laugh. Because once you see it for what it is, once you recognize that the emperor has no clothes (but insists they are wearing the most expensive designer suit), it stops being powerful. It stops being impressive. It becomes exactly what it is:
Desperation in a very expensive disguise.
And so, to my favourite main character, I say this: May your spotlight shine ever bright. May your audience remain captivated. May your imaginary accolades never run dry.
And may the rest of us continue to laugh in the back row, thoroughly unbothered.
Peace, Love, and Inspiration,
~Britt Wolfe
