I’ve always loved playing games, whether it’s board games, bowling, pool, table tennis, basketball, or almost anything else. There’s something about play that keeps me going and helps me stay young at heart. But video games have always held a particularly special place in my heart because they’ve given me experiences, challenges, memories, and connections that have stayed with me. Honestly, if I could get paid to play games, I’d do it in a heartbeat, because these moments have shaped my perspective and personal growth.
That love of play is probably why video games feel like more than just another hobby to me. They offer competition, escape, and achievement all at once. But what makes my relationship with gaming personal is how selective I am. I don’t play just anything for the sake of it; I look for games that pull me in and give me a reason to stay invested.
I class myself as a gamer, but perhaps not in the way people might expect. I love games, but I don’t enjoy every type of game, and I know exactly what tends to pull me in. I go through phases where my mind fixates on one thing and takes a while to move on. So, when a new game catches my attention and I pick up my PlayStation controller—yes, I’m a console gamer—it’s a wrap. I’ll play consistently for a week or two, completely locked in until I’ve finished it. Then, once it’s completed, I might not touch it again for quite a while.
It’s actually similar to the pattern I have with writing: intense focus, complete immersion, and then some space before the next wave hits.
I’m very competitive, and I think that began when I was young. I remember playing PlayStation with my family and being kicked off the controller after getting brutally battered by my older siblings and cousins. That built character—or at least that’s what I tell myself. Those moments shaped something in me. They created the competitive streak I still carry today, whether I’m playing a video game or sitting around a board game. The goal remains the same: to be the best.
While I enjoy a wide range of games, I’ve always been drawn to story-driven experiences—games that create emotional bonds with characters and worlds, leaving a lasting impact long after I’ve finished playing. Sharing this can help the audience feel the depth of what gaming offers beyond entertainment.
Growing up, gaming was more than something I did to pass the time; it was a ritual. I remember the late nights spent playing all kinds of games with my siblings and cousins. From Tekken and WWE to Track & Field, Need for Speed, and TimeSplitters, each game is tied to a core childhood memory. They weren’t simply games we played; they became moments that have remained in my mind and held a place in my heart ever since.
The weekends felt endless. I would sit too close to the television, controller in hand, completely locked in—no distractions, no responsibilities, and no worries about tomorrow. It was just me and the story unfolding in front of me.
Looking back, I realise how much gaming served as a safe escape for me-providing a space to find relief when reality felt overwhelming or heavy. Recognising this can help the audience see gaming as a meaningful way to cope, not just a pastime.
As I’ve grown older, my relationship with gaming has changed. Life has become busier, but gaming’s impact on me hasn’t faded. If anything, it has become clearer. I think my love for story-driven games is a big part of why I write the way I do now—why I’m drawn to characters, emotions, and internal journeys, and why I care so much about how a story feels rather than only how it appears on the surface. Gaming has shown me that stories can be immersive and meaningful, influencing my approach to storytelling and personal expression.
Games taught me that stories don’t have to be passive. You can live inside them. You can feel them. You can carry them with you. Maybe that’s why, even now, I still chase that same feeling—whether it’s through a controller in my hands or words on a page.
The Stigma of Video Games
I’ve seen a lot of negativity online surrounding people who play video games. Some offer unsolicited opinions, insult gamers, or make fun of them while acting as though they are somehow better than those who play. There can be an underlying sense of superiority—as though choosing not to play video games automatically makes someone more mature or productive than someone who does.
What I find strange is that people often judge gaming differently from other forms of entertainment. Someone can spend hours watching a television series, scrolling through social media, or following their favourite sport without being questioned. Yet, if someone spends that same amount of time playing a video game, it can suddenly be labelled a waste of time.
Judging someone or making fun of their chosen form of escapism seems silly to me. Some of the same people who become furious when their favourite team loses will be the first to buy a video game based on that sport or watch a film about it. How is one form of enjoyment more valid than another? We all have something that helps us switch off, escape for a while, or simply have fun. For me, that something is gaming, and I believe recognising this can foster understanding and respect for different ways people find meaning and relaxation.
Of course, gaming requires balance, just like any other hobby. It can become unhealthy if it begins to interfere with someone’s responsibilities, relationships, or well-being. But enjoying video games doesn’t automatically make someone lazy, antisocial, or immature. People play for many different reasons: to relax after a difficult day, challenge themselves, connect with friends, experience a powerful story, or temporarily step away from the pressures of everyday life.
For me, gaming has never been about avoiding life. It’s part of how I experience it. It has given me memories with my family, introduced me to unforgettable characters and worlds, and even shaped how I approach writing. Reducing all of that to “just playing games” ignores the meaning these experiences can hold. You don’t have to understand someone’s passion to respect it, and you shouldn’t make them feel ashamed for finding joy in it.
Stories That Stay with You
I’m not saying everyone has to enjoy gaming or understand its appeal. We all connect with different things. But dismissing video games as pointless ignores what they can offer beyond entertainment. Some games tell stories that, in my opinion, are better than those found in many television shows and films today. They introduce us to unforgettable characters and explore themes that stay with us long after the credits roll.
Games such as The Last of Us Part I and Part II, Red Dead Redemption 2, and Ghost of Tsushima are perfect examples. They aren’t memorable simply because of their graphics or gameplay; they make you care about the people at the centre of their stories. They explore love, loss, loyalty, revenge, sacrifice, and the consequences of the choices people make.
The Last of Us places you inside a deeply emotional story about love, survival, revenge, and the lengths people will go to protect those closest to them. Red Dead Redemption 2 tells a powerful story about loyalty, morality, and a man beginning to question the life he has lived. Ghost of Tsushima follows a warrior forced to choose between the traditions that shaped him and the actions he must take to save his home.
Each story asks difficult questions, but instead of watching everything unfold from a distance, you experience those questions through the characters themselves. You aren’t simply observing their journeys—you are taking part in them. You travel with these characters, make decisions alongside them, and witness the consequences of what happens. By the time the story ends, it can feel as though you have lived through something with them.
That emotional connection can be hard to explain to someone who has never experienced it. But it’s not about pressing buttons or completing objectives. It’s about stepping into a world, connecting with its characters, and becoming emotionally invested in where their journeys take them.
More Than Entertainment
As I look back at the role gaming has played throughout my life, I realise it has given me far more than a way to pass the time. It gave me unforgettable nights with my family, fuelled my competitive side, offered comfort when life felt overwhelming, and showed me how powerful an interactive story could be. It also helped shape the writer I’m becoming by teaching me the importance of character, emotion, atmosphere, and the journey beneath the surface.
My relationship with gaming will probably keep changing. There may be times when I spend weeks completely absorbed in a game and others when I don’t touch my controller at all. But the passion itself will always be there because gaming has become part of who I am. The memories I’ve made, the worlds I’ve explored, and the stories I’ve carried with me can’t be dismissed as time wasted.
To some people, they may be “just games.” To me, they have always been—and will always be—more than entertainment.