Game On

In late 2021, I found myself drawn back into the world of gaming after a twenty-year hiatus. This return to play wasn't just about picking up a controller again—it was about reconnecting with a core part of who I am, a part I had tucked away but never truly lost.

My gaming journey began in the late '80s to early '90s with the classics—Pac-Man on the Atari 2600 and games like Joust that defined those early digital days. 

From there, I graduated to what we called the "Family Computer" in the Philippines (known as the Nintendo Entertainment System in the West). The Super Nintendo era followed, filled with countless hours exploring the worlds of Mario, each adventure shaping my childhood in ways I wouldn't fully appreciate until years later.

Growing up in our part of the world, we didn't have easy access to original titles—our market was filled with bootleg cartridges, often selling multiple titles in a single cartridge. 

While not exactly legal, these were our windows into gaming worlds we couldn't otherwise access. It wasn't ideal, but it was the reality of being a gamer in a developing country, and we made the most of it.

By 1992, I had moved on to the Sega Genesis, where Sonic the Hedgehog 2 became one of my first completed games. The Super Nintendo continued to be a source of joy with titles like The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, Donkey Kong Country, and Mortal Kombat II. Each game carries its own set of memories, tied to specific moments and feelings from those formative years.

The PlayStation arrived in my life in 1996, but with it came an unexpected weight of guilt. 

I remember crying after asking my parents to buy it for me, knowing it wasn't a small expense. That guilt led to a silent promise—it would be the last console I'd ask them to buy. 

True to my word, when the PlayStation era began winding down around 2001-2002, I stopped with gaming entirely.

Fast forward to 2021, when I purchased an Anbernic  handheld emulator that could play games from various classic systems. 

It was the Metroidvania-style Castlevania games on Game Boy Advance that truly reignited my passion—Aria of Sorrow, Harmony of Dissonance, and Circle of the Moon. These games spoke to my love of systematic exploration and completion, turning each playthrough into a satisfying checklist of achievements and discoveries.

Suddenly, I found myself rushing to finish work just to spend more time playing. 

The familiar feeling of being completely absorbed in a game world returned, where nothing mattered except reaching the next save point or defeating the next boss. 

This rediscovered passion led me to the Nintendo Switch and Steam, where I've been catching up on both new titles and classic point-and-click adventures like Space Quest and Quest for Glory.

What I've realized through this journey is that you can't truly escape who you are. 

There will always be elements of your past self that remain, dormant perhaps, but ready to spring back to life when given the chance. 

Gaming wasn't just a hobby I left behind—it was a fundamental part of how I view and interact with the world. Even during my years away from video games, I found myself "gamifying" various aspects of life, finding ways to inject fun and play into otherwise mundane tasks.

I think this is true for everyone—there's something from your past, something that brought you joy and excitement, waiting to be rediscovered. It might be tucked away in the recesses of your mind, but it's there. For me, it was gaming, but for you, it could be anything. The key is to look deep within yourself, reconnect with your inner child, and be open to being surprised by what you find.

Sometimes the most authentic version of yourself is the one you thought you'd outgrown. So do your thing, embrace what brings you joy, and don't be afraid to press "Start" on a new chapter of an old passion.