“I see myself in this character,”

We all have that one character – the brooding anti-hero, the chaotic best friend, the loyal protector – who feels oddly familiar. Sometimes it’s a character from a childhood film, sometimes it’s someone from a K-drama, or maybe a fierce samurai from your latest anime obsession. But here’s the question:

Do we love them because they’re like us, or because they show us who we secretly want to become?

That’s the quiet magic of stories. They hold up mirrors.
And according to psychology, there are three main ways those mirrors work.

1. Identification “This is me.”

This is the easiest one to recognize. When you identify with a character, you see traits you already know in yourself. Maybe you feel Tanjiro’s responsibility, Bridget Jones’s awkward optimism, or Walter Mitty’s daydreams. Identification confirms identity.

In a new culture, such as when you move abroad, this kind of recognition can be grounding. You find pieces of “home” in fictional worlds, small reminders that your values, humor, or sense of justice still exist somewhere.

But identification can also limit growth if we cling to it too tightly. You can get stuck playing your favorite role – the helper, the rebel, the perfectionist – instead of letting life cast you in something new.

2. Projection “This is who I want to be.”

Projection happens when a character embodies a quality you haven’t yet allowed yourself to live. You’re not that confident, calm, or ruthless, but something in them calls you forward.

It’s what Carl Jung called the “golden shadow.” We project our unrealized strengths onto others until we’re ready to claim them.

That’s why an anxious person might love an effortlessly cool hero, or a people-pleaser might be drawn to a bold, selfish villain.

Cross-culturally, this can be fascinating: someone raised in a collectivist culture might admire lone-wolf characters, while someone from an individualist culture might crave stories of deep belonging. What we project often reveals what our culture didn’t teach us to embody.

3. Relational mirror “This is us.”

Sometimes, the connection isn’t about one character but the dynamic between two. You might see yourself in one and your partner or friend in another – like loving the calm-chaotic duo in Demon Slayer or the gentle-stubborn pair in Spirited Away.

Relational mirroring helps us understand our emotional patterns, how we love, fight, protect, and withdraw. It’s why couples often argue about fictional characters: they’re not really debating the story, they’re seeing their own reflection inside it.

So what does this mean for you?

Next time you feel drawn to a character, pause for a second:

• Do they reflect who you already are?
• Who you secretly wish to be?
• Or how you relate to someone else in your life?

Stories aren’t just escapes. They’re emotional test fields — safe places where we can explore identity, desire, and cultural contrast without consequence.

Especially when living abroad, these mirrors can help you integrate parts of yourself that don’t fit neatly into your new environment. Whether it’s a French poet, a Korean drama lead, or a Japanese swordsman — the characters we love reveal where we are in our personal evolution.

So maybe next time someone asks, “Why are you obsessed with that character?”
You can smile and say,

“Because they’re teaching me something about myself — I just haven’t figured out what yet.”