After nearly a decade of partnership and multiple attempts — with mixed results — at getting my wife, Sarah, to engage enthusiastically with non-mobile video games, it’s finally happened: She now spends a decent chunk of her free time playing a real-deal, AAA video game on a home console.
With the release of the Nintendo Switch 2, I simply have no reason to ever return to my first Switch, as there isn’t a single game I would play on it that I can’t play on the shiny new object (I’ve also transferred all of my save data to the Switch 2, so it’s not like I can’t access old save files). I have since given my Switch to Sarah, specifically so she could play Animal Crossing: New Horizons and find out what all the fuss was about, albeit five years after the game’s release (and a whole pandemic later).
For context, I named New Horizons my 2020 Game of the Year, in no small part due to the circumstances of that horrific year. The idea of building an entire island community with joyful animal buddies truly resonated with me during a prolonged period of social isolation, often punctuated by moments of dread, despair, and depression. I got to create a cozy routine in the game, where I spent my evenings and mornings before work chatting with neighbors, fishing, decorating my house, donating fossils and bugs to my local museum, and even planting flowers to make everything more lively. It was very much the right game for that time, and one I will always hold near and dear to my heart because of that.
Sarah definitely took notice of how much time I spent on that island, and yearned somewhat for that kind of escape (she also couldn’t avoid how much everyone posted about the game on social media that year). I even offered to buy an extra Switch for her just so she could have that experience for herself, but she declined, saying that such an expense to play one game would be “silly.”
Our Gaming History
I’ve tried so many different games with Sarah, not because I want her to love the medium as much as I do, but so we can have another thing to share together. There have been a few successes (particularly logic puzzlers like Baba Is You and Escape Academy, where I hold the controller and we talk through each puzzle together). There have mostly been failures (every time we try a co-op sidescroller together like Super Mario Bros. Wonder or Yoshi’s Crafted World, I move too fast through the world and leave her behind). Even games designed specifically for cooperative play, such as Split Fiction or It Takes Two, intimidate her, since they make a lot of assumptions about the players’ familiarity with dual-stick movement on a typical game controller.
Maybe multiplayer just isn’t the way to go for us, but it’s not as though Sarah has much interest in single-player games. Most of the time she sees me playing something like Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, Marvel’s Spider-Man 2, or even a Legend of Zelda game, she views them more as background noise for our day-to-day life. She has fond memories of playing Nintendo 64 games like Yoshi’s Story as well as educational PC games like Freddy Fish and Pajama Sam as a child, but that enjoyment didn’t translate to much afterward. She enjoys various iPhone games enough, but those are mostly things she plays while watching Top Chef or waiting for the subway.
Things might be different now. All these years later, I’m fully entrenched in a new Nintendo system, and it’s finally her time to shine in Animal Crossing.
The Time Has Finally Come
Honestly, it’s been a real treat watching her get into it. Sure, she often mentions the small frustrations we all experienced with the game in 2020 (wonky user interface, slow onboarding, limited gameplay options in the first couple of in-game weeks), but she’s kept pushing through and has really gotten into the good stuff.
Sarah’s daily routine in Animal Crossing: New Horizons largely resembles my old routine. Wake up, check the ATM, plant flowers, see if the store has any cool new items, talk to local villagers, smash rocks and trees for materials, try to catch fish and bugs, and donate any fossils and fauna to Blathers’ museum. It’s a calm, peaceful set of activities whose lack of urgency and stakes is propped up by its endless charm and serenity. Sarah adores the cuteness of each new item, revels in the excitement of catching a new fish (or turtle, which SHOCKED her), and grows easily frustrated at the bugs who fly away before she can catch them in her net. Basically, she’s playing (and experiencing) the game largely the same way I once did.
What delights me so much about watching Sarah go through the same motions I did five years prior is not that she likes the same video game that I do; it’s that she’s visiting a time and place I once inhabited, one that feels foundational both to my current gaming taste and — broadly speaking — to my view of the world and the role art plays in it. Video games aren’t just a collection of graphics and inputs. They’re places we visit and sometimes share with others.
She’s visiting a time and place I once inhabited, one that feels foundational both to my current gaming taste and my view of the world and the role art plays in it.
Watching her converse with the Nook twins, Isabelle, Blathers, and Flick, it almost felt as though she were meeting old friends of mine. Seeing what her island looked like after a few weeks — the tents and weeds replaced by houses and flower gardens — reminded me of taking her to my old summer camp in the Catskills for the first time, or when she brought me to her childhood home in Connecticut. By simply existing in the same spaces and interacting with the same (virtual) beings, we now share something meaningful that we didn’t before.
A New Connection
Relationships are about sharing a life with someone else, but that doesn’t mean you share everything. I know Sarah’ll never pick up a PlayStation 5 controller and ask me if she should give Baldur’s Gate 3 a shot. I also know I probably won’t watch one second of Grey’s Anatomy or its various spin-offs, as she has (multiple times, mind you). Still, it’s a joy to find yet another connection. It’s a good reminder that there are still ways for me and her to grow even closer.
Want to foster a similar connection with a loved one? Follow our tips to get your partner into video games. Or, check out our guide to getting your mom (or dad!) into video games.
Sam has been playing video games since his earliest years and has been writing about them since 2016. He’s a big fan of Nintendo games and complaining about The Last of Us Part II. You either agree wholeheartedly with his opinions or despise them. There is no in between. A lifelong New Yorker, Sam views gaming as far more than a silly little pastime, and hopes though critical analysis and in-depth reviews to better understand the medium's artistic merit. Twitter: @sam_martinelli.
