The Unlikable Heroine: The Flaw That Tanks Your Reluctant Chosen One

Writing female characters can be difficult. Not because women are impossible to understand (though some of the men closest to them might argue otherwise), but because the expectations placed on them are sky high. We want them to be strong but soft, feminine but capable, independent but still a little vulnerable. And when those expectations get stretched too far, we end up with FMCs who aren’t all that likable on the page.
Across genres, certain archetypes show up again and again. You’ve seen them, though maybe you didn’t recognize them right away. There’s the girl-boss warrior who can do everything alone, the emotionally tortured chosen one who’s supposed to save the world, the “I’m not like other girls” special snowflake, the walking trauma dump who never gets a moment of peace, and the passive pretty-girl who exists mostly to be adored or fought over. These archetypes are familiar for a reason but they’re not always easy to love.
Today, I want to zoom in on one archetype in particular: the reluctant chosen one. She’s the girl thrust into destiny, the one the world depends on, the one fate has supposedly hand picked. When done well, this archetype can actually be incredibly fun. We get to watch our heroine grow, rise to the occasion, and step into her role. It can feel empowering and deeply satisfying.
And yet, I would argue that sometimes we miss the mark. These reluctant chosen ones, though pivotal to the story, can too easily come across as emotionally unavailable, petty, immature, and honestly, just plain unlikable.
Let’s pick apart a couple of fan favorites, just for fun.
Katniss Everdeen and Bella Swan are perfect examples of this. On the surface, they couldn’t be more different: one’s a dystopian warrior, the other’s tangled in a supernatural love triangle. But at their core, they share the same issue.
Katniss is a phenomenal archer, a gritty survivor, and a fighter. She’s competent and capable, but she’s also prickly, withdrawn, emotionally unavailable, and cold. Her skills are admirable, but her personality makes connection difficult.
Bella, on the other hand, isn’t trained, powerful, or particularly special in any way. She’s not especially clever, strong, or driven. Yet she becomes the supernatural linchpin of the entire Twilight universe. Her winning charms are that she’s broody, petulant, indecisive, and frequently manipulative. Her emotional inconsistency drives the plot, but not in a satisfying way—more in a “girl, please go get therapy” way.
Katniss and Bella are wildly different characters, but they share one thing: they’re reluctantly central to the fate of their worlds, yet not particularly likable. Both are written as ordinary girls thrust into extraordinary circumstances, but for me, their emotional detachment makes them hard to love. Readers want to root for the chosen one and sympathize with her, not simply tolerate her because the side characters (who are frankly more interesting) need her.
Before anyone sends me hate mail, let me be clear: I do like The Hunger Games and the Twilight books (well, the first Twilight is okay—personally, I think The Host was better). Maybe it’s the strung out love triangles that make me less enthusiastic. Either way, both of these FMCs land firmly in the “not my favorite” category.
I know you’re all dying to hear my thoughts on what actually makes a reluctant chosen heroine likable. Patience, friends. Next week, I will spill the tea.