Why LGBTQ+ Games Matter

For anyone who, like myself, has grown up in a small town without much visible LGBTQ+ acceptance, representations of the community can have a profound impact. When people are born, they don’t inherently understand politics or bigotry. As we engage with the culture around us, we’re informed about how people perceive social groups, including LGBTQ+ people. For me, this was a confusing and painful process. I grew up in a household that told me that being gay wasn’t a part of “God’s plan,” and that it ought to be avoided at all costs. For me, this upbringing led to a severe lack of awareness, where I wasn’t able to recognize the fondness I felt towards men as being a joyous reflection of love. For years, I tried to convince myself that I was absolutely straight, a futile mental battle that only succeeded in causing me pain. Fortunately, while I grew up in a community that wasn’t supportive of my identity, I was eventually able to find peace and joy in my LGBTQ+ identity from the media that I encountered. Obviously, LGBTQ+ people have been depicted in stories in a wide assortment of media for hundreds of years, but my personal catharsis would come from the games I played as a teenager.

When I first booted up “Undertale,” I wasn’t expecting it to get me thinking more deeply about LGBTQ+ identities. I’d heard that the game was a clever and humorous deconstruction of violence in RPGs, which is what initially drew me to the game. It certainly delivered on that front, with a battle system that allowed players to beat the entire game without killing a single enemy while also delivering a charming cast of characters. Two of these characters, Undyne, the headstrong warrior, and Alphys, the shy scientist, end up in a lesbian relationship by the end of the game. These characters were the first time I was presented with an LGBTQ+ relationship in a piece of media I was really invested in, and it resulted in me starting down the path of actually understanding the community, and in doing so being able to accept my place within it. Alphys and Undyne were charming, funny, and altogether wonderful for each other. Playing the game caused me to appreciate them in their totality, to the point that I couldn’t imagine them in any other sort of relationship. Alphys and Undyne were lesbians, and that wasn’t just something to be permitted, but in and of itself, it was a wonderful thing.

This realization primed me to be gentler towards myself. Instead of impulsively rejecting the thought that I could love men, I gradually allowed myself to explore that notion. Even though I’m not a lesbian, the mere notion that gender didn’t have to bar me from love was liberating. Today, I take great joy in my identity as a bi man, and I actively seek out art that explores the complex emotions that come with my identity.

It’s important for representation to exist across every possible medium. People will gravitate towards different types of art that reflect their interests. By broadening the places where LGBTQ+ people can be seen, more people will encounter our stories. They also afford a new set of tools for storytellers. While it would be inaccurate to say that games are the only medium that uses agency and interactivity (theater has been using audience participation for ages), games are undeniably an excellent platform for branching experiences. The interactivity of games can be used to situate players within the narrative and to make choices that reflect their own desires, such as by supporting LGBTQ+ romances or allowing players to choose their own pronouns. A growing number of games are taking LGBTQ+ considerations into account in their design, and in doing so are exploring a rich space of LGBTQ+ stories.

Outside of RPGs and dating simulators that allow players to romance their characters, LGBTQ+ representation has also become an important part of games that simulate life. Games like “The Sims 4” and “Dwarf Fortress” both try to simulate the lives of people, with the former focusing on contemporary settings with expressive characters and the latter taking a hyper-detailed approach to representing a medieval fantasy world. However, both games recognize that LGBTQ+ people exist and have worked to reflect this fact by incorporating gay characters into their systems. More narratively-oriented games have incorporated LGBTQ+ characters into their plots, not necessarily as romanceable characters, but as representatives of the community and the perspective that an LGBTQ+ background can bring.

My life was changed forever because of LGBTQ+ characters in a video game. LGBTQ+ games matter because they expand the perspectives of players. They reflect the stories of the LGBTQ+ game developers who channel their experiences into the games they make. The LGBTQ+ community is filled with variety and life, and LGBTQ+ games help the medium explore a wider range of the human experience. Games helped me come to terms with my sexuality, but that was only the first step into a world of wonderful stories and experiences that only games could offer.