The Screenwriter within Us

Our narrative self is the most influential weapon we can forge. This self, so convinced of its own story, has the power to shape our reality and skew it, often distorting it. The story we tell ourselves about who we are and our life overshadows objective reality to the point that we end up living more in our own version than in concrete facts. Our minds are so skilled at storytelling that it’s often difficult to distinguish between objective reality and the idealized or distorted version we create. We find ourselves trapped in this personal narrative, which sometimes reassures us, sometimes condemns us, but always keeps us from seeing things as they really are.

Our narrative becomes a mental prison, a cage that keeps us safely within our comfort zone yet prevents us from growing, from questioning ourselves. It’s our story that often takes control, rendering us blind to the complexity and diversity of objective reality. We tend to ignore anything that doesn’t fit our story, rejecting everything that could contradict or challenge it. This resistance to change is often motivated by a fear of losing control or of facing aspects of ourselves we’d rather avoid.

This concept is closely tied to the level of narcissism within us, where the narrative self constructs a grandiose, self-celebratory story that constantly needs validation from the outside world. Narcissism, at its core, is just this: an exaggerated and rigid self-narrative that seeks affirmation in every interaction, avoiding any form of criticism. Our inner narrative becomes more important than the truth, and every situation is filtered to fit the story we want to uphold. This mechanism is particularly dangerous as it feeds a vicious cycle: the more we tell ourselves we’re special and deserving of admiration, the more we crave external proof to confirm it, and the more dependent we become on these validations.

In doing so, we end up building superficial relationships, based not on reality but on the need to fuel our own narrative. Every critique, every piece of feedback that doesn’t align with our story is seen as a threat, and we respond with either defense or attack.

The narrative self becomes highly risky when it feeds only on external validation. Think, for example, of someone who tells themselves they’re always the victim: every interaction is reinterpreted to reinforce this role, making it impossible to see their own responsibilities or view reality from a different perspective. This kind of narrative creates a negative spiral in which every challenge is seen as further proof of one’s victimhood, never acknowledging the personal power to change things.

Another example is someone who believes they’re a genius, possessing a superior mind and destined for greatness: the fear of inferiority behind these people is immense.

Our narrative self is a powerful weapon, but that doesn’t mean we can’t learn to manage it. We must recognize that this inner voice is only one of many possible versions of ourselves, and that we can rewrite our story whenever we want (as long as we’re consistent). This requires an effort of awareness and the ability to accept that what we tell ourselves isn’t always the truth but just a version. Being aware of this allows us to free ourselves from the tyranny of our narrative and get a little closer to the reality of things, with all its complexity and dynamism.

In this era, our narrative self has been heavily fueled by movies and social media. We’re surrounded by stories and characters that inspire us, and the desire to feel part of a story has become a constant. Social media, in particular, pushes us to construct an idealized version of ourselves, to feel like protagonists in a movie called life, thus fueling our personal narrative—and our narcissism. Everyone today wants to “tell their story.” Everyone wants to be the main character in their own story, which makes it even harder to distinguish between who we truly are (in the reality of things) and what we tell ourselves and others.

But the narrative self isn’t the solution, and we don’t necessarily have to see ourselves as protagonists in a story. This attitude can easily lead to selfish, egocentric, and indifferent behavior toward others and the consequences of our actions. On the contrary, we should see ourselves as valuable parts of a larger mechanism called society, in which every individual is a resource of equal value. We’re not the only ones with a story: each of us has our own personal story, and all these stories are part of the “story of humanity,” a universal book where the greatest deeds and revolutions are told. Each of us contributes with our own subplots, and it’s important to remember that, while everyone has their own role, we are all part of something bigger and shared: human evolution.