The NPC Syndrome: Why You Might Feel Invisible and How to Change It

Sometimes, I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a stage, watching everyone else act out their scenes, while I’m waiting for a cue that never comes. It’s as if life is carrying on without me, with all its laughter, noise, and movement, and I’m just… there. This is a feeling I’ve had from time to time, and I suspect I’m not alone. Many of us grapple with moments when it seems like we’re a background character in our own story. It’s unsettling, isn’t it?

I’ve often thought about what it means to exist, to really feel like you’re here, solid and connected, rather than a ghost floating on the periphery. These thoughts came to my head one evening as I was playing a video game. For my non-gamer readers out there, there’s a type of character called an NPC (non-playable character) that only comes to life when you engage with them. Otherwise, they’re static, existing in some coded limbo. The more I thought about it, the more I realised how easy it is to slip into that role in real life, especially when life’s demands pile up or we feel unseen.

When I was younger, I had a period where I felt exactly like that. I was going through the motions, doing what was expected, but there was a hollowness to it. I would share snippets of my day with friends or post little updates online, hoping… well, I wasn’t quite sure what I was hoping for. Maybe it was acknowledgement, validation, or just the simple reassurance that I was real, that I mattered, that I made someone laugh or pause and think. But the more I shared, the more I felt like a hollow echo. It was a strange paradox: the more I tried to make my existence known, the less I felt like it actually counted.

I’ve seen this same dynamic in others too, especially as a psychologist. People tell me about their habits, posting updates, curating moments, seeking ways to be noticed. It’s not inherently bad. In fact, sharing parts of our lives can be deeply meaningful. But sometimes, the action of sharing is only what’s on the surface, deep down it’s about filling a void, a quiet longing to be seen in a world that often feels too loud to notice us.

So, how do we recognise when we’ve drifted into the role of the NPC? It may be helpful to start with an honest look at our behaviours. Are we participating in life, or are we waiting to be noticed? Do we feel present, or are we just hoping someone else will make us feel that way? When you find yourself repeatedly refreshing your notifications, hoping for a response that might never come, that’s a clue. When your day feels like it’s measured by how many likes or comments you’ve received, rather than the moments that brought you joy, that’s another.

Coping with this feeling doesn’t mean abandoning social media or interactions. I got introduced to Reddit last year and my 200-Day Streak badge says something about my relationship with social media. I think it’s more about understanding what you’re really seeking when you connect to the internet. For me, when I was in that hollow phase, I wasn’t looking for validation as much as I was searching for connection. I wanted to feel like my existence mattered, but I was outsourcing that sense of importance. The truth is, it’s an inside job.

One thing that helped me was grounding myself in small, tangible actions. I started doing things just for the sake of doing them. Cooking meals I’d never tried before. Going for walks while listening to audiobooks, and spend a minute here or there to notice the smallest details, the way leaves shift in the wind or how the light changes in the late afternoon. These moments didn’t require an audience. They didn’t demand applause. But they reminded me that I existed, and that existence could be full and rich without anyone else’s input.

Another shift came when I went back to journaling and writing stories. There’s something incredibly grounding for me about the tactile feedback from my vintage Apple Extended Keyboard M0115, about pouring my thoughts and feelings into a space where they’re safe and unjudged. Over time, I noticed patterns in what I was writing. The things I was yearning for weren’t external at all. They were moments of connection. Connection to myself, to others, to the world around me. I’d been chasing them in all the wrong places.

But I’ll be honest. It’s not always easy to step out of the NPC role. Sometimes, life’s circumstances push us into it. Work becomes overwhelming, relationships feel distant, or we’re simply too exhausted to do anything but exist on autopilot. In those moments, it’s important to recognise that you’re not failing because you’re struggling. You’re human, and humans are complicated creatures.

If you’re feeling stuck, start small. Find one thing each day that reminds you you’re alive. It doesn’t have to be grand or transformative. Maybe it’s making your favourite cup of tea and actually taking the time to savour it. Maybe it’s playing a song you love and letting yourself dance, even if it’s just for a minute. Maybe it’s standing outside and feeling the wind on your skin. These tiny moments matter. They anchor us. They bring us back to ourselves. And for me yesterday, it was my first ever attempt to mow the lawn.

Another thing that’s helped me, and might help you, is setting boundaries with yourself. Social media can be wonderful, but it can also be a trap. It’s easy to get caught in the cycle of sharing for the sake of sharing, of seeking validation instead of connection. Ask yourself why you’re posting something. If it’s because you’re excited or want to share joy, go for it. If it’s because you’re hoping someone will notice you, pause and think about what you’re really seeking.

Ultimately, stepping out of the NPC role means reclaiming your narrative. In this new narrative, your life is yours to live, not just to be observed. Find those moments that make you feel real and hold onto them, even when life feels heavy or overwhelming. Remember that you don’t have to perform your existence for anyone else. You are here, and that is enough.

See that play button for your life? You need to press it yourself instead of waiting for someone else to trigger the action. Take up space. Be messy, be loud, be unapologetically present. Your story matters, not because someone else says it does, but because you are living it.