Written by Tiane Davis

When I was younger, the first Pokemon game I played was Pokemon Emerald. One of my brother’s classmates had given it to him, and the game was already finished when I received it. My brother had told me I could restart the game, as long as I made sure to send all of the best Pokemon to his newest DS game.

For those of you who are not familiar with Pokemon trading between Gameboy Advance games and DS games, you can only trade six Pokemon every 24 hours, and you have to be on WiFi to do it. My family did not have Wifi at home when I was young, so the process took me months.

When I finally got to restart the game under my own name, it was maybe the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me in my eight years of living. After waiting for weeks and weeks, I felt like I was opening an awesome present on Christmas.

For my starter, I picked Mudkip, the water type. I named her Mudkip, because I thought it was a cute name already. I developed a vicarious crush on my in-game rival, Brendan — he was just an NPC, but I knew he and my character were meant to be together forever. Every new plot point in the game felt like the most exciting and dramatic thing I could experience. I have always loved a good story, and any encounter with villain grunts from Team Magma or Team Aqua was never excluded from that love.

My 8-year-old self quickly became attached to Mudkip, and she never left my party. I had a lot of fun in Emerald’s Hoenn region, even in the endgame. I alternated my obsessions between competing in the contest hall, growing berries, decorating my tree fort, collecting and hatching eggs at the daycare and rematching gym leaders. Everything I did in the game was the funnest activity I had ever done.

Over the years, I probably replayed the game at least half a dozen times. As I’ve gotten older, the game serves as a connection between the feelings of childhood joy and comfort as well as entertainment.

A few weeks ago, I found an artist on Spotify called Chippy Bits, which mostly has a list of remade chiptunes albums from video games. I found three full albums from the Ruby/Sapphire/ Emerald games, and when I listened to them, I could not believe I had forgotten how much I enjoyed playing Pokemon as a kid. I also found albums from the Black/White games, which was another generation of Pokemon I loved to play in elementary school. After listening to each town’s song and picturing the games in my head, I felt an urgency to find my old DS Lite and start up in Littleroot town again. I was shocked I had let that joy slip away from me.

I think a part of me always wants to feel guilty or embarrassed for returning to activities or hobbies from my childhood, because “growing up” feels like having to say goodbye to who I was as a child. One crucial part of getting older I am trying to embrace is that “growing up” just means parting with the bad parts of my old self, not every part. If I only allow myself to keep new interests that I discover or new pieces of knowledge that I learn, I will not grow — I will just continually tear myself into new pieces — and I will not be whole.

Any joy that can stand the test of growth and time is a joy worth keeping around. I know I will not always have the time to spend on childhood joys, but that never means I have to say goodbye to who I was when I felt them. For the longest time, I thought in order to grow up I had to throw away young Tiane to make room for older Tiane. However, I am still as much myself as I ever was as a child and more, and making space to include 8-year-old Tiane in my 20-something life feels necessary. Reliving good memories from my childhood makes me feel more whole, and if occasionally fighting gym leaders on my DS or listening to old soundtracks is what it takes to feel whole, that is what I will do.

I am a whole person. We are whole people. If we are living life right, our hearts will have room for our whole selves.