Hey guys, it’s Tina. Pull up a chair, grab a drink—preferably something strong because we’re about to get into it.

I’ve been doing a lot of “soul searching” lately. And by soul searching, I mean I’ve been sitting on my couch, staring at the wall, and realizing that in the grand movie of life, I am never the plucky protagonist. I’m not the girl-next-door who wins the guy and saves the bake sale. No, after careful consideration of my life choices and my general attitude toward the public, I’ve realized I am the villain in every single story.

And you know what? I’m finally okay with it. Actually, I’m leaning into it. Fuck y’all.

The “Hero” Narrative is Exhausting

Have you ever tried to be the “good” one? It’s miserable. You have to smile when people say stupid things. You have to say “no worries!” when someone’s late for the fifth time in a row. You have to care about things like “civic duty” and “not being a jerk on the freeway.”

I’m retired from all of that.

If you ask my ex, I’m the monster who ruined his life. If you ask my former boss, I’m the chaos agent who sent a passive-aggressive email that burned the bridge and then salted the earth. If you ask the lady behind me in line at the grocery store who was huffing because I had fifteen items in the “ten or less” lane? Yeah, I’m the Antichrist.

I see the way people look at me. That slight squint of judgment? I feed on it. It’s like a protein shake for my ego.

Why Being the Bad Guy is Better

Think about it. The heroes are always stressed. They have responsibilities. They have to explain themselves. As the villain, I just… do what I want.

• Honesty: I don’t give you that fake “We should totally grab coffee” vibe. If I don’t like you, you’ll know because I’ll be looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe.

• The Outfits: Let’s be real, the villains always have better style. Capes? Leather? A permanent scowl? It’s a look.

• No Expectations: When everyone already thinks you’re the worst, you can’t disappoint anyone! It’s the ultimate freedom.

See You Downstairs

I know what you’re thinking. “Tina, that’s so mean! What about karma? What about your legacy?”

Legacy? Please. My legacy is going to be a trail of broken hearts, blocked numbers, and people whispering “Is she serious?” as I walk out of the room. I’ve accepted my fate. I’m not looking for a redemption arc. I don’t want a montage where I learn the true meaning of friendship.

I’ve spent years trying to fit into the “nice girl” box, and it was too small. I have too much personality (and too much spite) for that box. So, I’m the villain. I’m the one who tells the truth when it hurts. I’m the one who puts myself first every single time.

And here’s the kicker: I know how this story ends. I’m not delusional. I know where the path of the wicked leads. But honestly? If the “good” people are all going to one place, I’d rather be literally anywhere else.

I’ll be the villain in every single thing, all the time. I’ll be the reason you have a bad day, the reason you have to vent to your therapist, and the reason you check under your bed at night. I’m embracing the dark side, and I’ve got plenty of room in the passenger seat.

Because let’s face it: you’re all going to end up in hell with me anyway. At least I’ll be the one who knows where the best seats are and which demons have the best gossip.

Stay mad, babes.