Marry a Gamer Dude

It’s the best, and I’ll tell you why.

I have this friend, who, for the sake of her privacy, we’ll call “Dinah,” which apparently means judgement, so it’s fitting. Dinah is actually a lovely gal, who loves to hike, camp, and fish. I think she’s even hunted bear, or maybe it was yetis. Anyway, she’s what you might call “outdoorsy.” I love Dinah, and I love her outdoorsiness. It makes her smile, and that makes me smile.

Many eons ago, Dinah married a guy, we’ll call him “Bob,” because A) I can’t remember the guy’s actual name and B) I’m already sick of searching for applicable pseudonyms. Bob was a decent husband, at first, doing all the things husbands should do. Dinah had a problem, though, a big one, and it was one that she initially thought would solve itself: Bob was a gamer.

Quake was his first great love, and after that fizzled out (for him, anyway; by all accounts it’s still a wildly popular game among the ‘elite’) he played Everquest, for years. If you don’t know what either of those titles are, it’s okay — they are ancient. What can I say; we’re old.

Then, like many a gamer before him, he was seduced by the intoxicating World of Warcraft, where Bob the Orc could run around for hours and hours, gleefully clubbing dire wolves on the head with a big club — good times.

Dinah, however, did not think this was a good time, at all. Her idea of video gaming was basically whatever game was housed in whatever console her big brother owned as a kid, which was something she was mostly forbidden to touch. I think I even recall her referring to it as a “Gamestation” one time, which was adorable.

But, remember: our Dinah loves the outdoors. Impossibly beautiful, vibrant trees, the invigorating scent of wildflowers in the breeze, and the wild, unkempt majesty of the mountains are what make her spirits soar — not the pixelated plains of the Barrens.

Dinah, like so many other gamer’s wives (and ex-wives) was under the mistaken impression that once he married her, Bob’s video game obsession would fizzle out as he, and their marriage, matured. She thought he would simply grow out of gaming, much like we grew out of playing with Barbies or using blue eye shadow.

In short, she thought that video games were for kids, maybe teenagers, but not for fully grown, bearded men.

Dinah eventually divorced Bob, who did, in fairness, make the catastrophic error of not doing the things that she enjoyed, too, during their short marriage. It was doomed from the start, however, as I explained to Dinah, because Bob’s seemingly childish pastime was not one that would likely ever go away. For Dinah, this was a deal breaker, and that’s okay: in addition to being a gamer, he was emotionally distant and his butt cheeks barely left his computer chair. It was fair of her to come to the conclusion that she did, which was that it was the gamer in him that she was leaving, but just between us, there were so many other factors at play that had nothing to do with poor old Bob’s gaming.

I, on the other hand, happily married my gamer guy. And I’ll tell you why.

Gamers are not all the same, despite popular belief, and I’m not just talking about console gamers versus PC gamers — like any hobbyist, gamers are unique in their personalities, preferences, and level of obsession. But something that all gamers do share is the unfortunate plight of being glued to some incredibly distasteful stereotypes.

My husband was, admittedly, fairly obsessed with gaming when we first met. He spent hours every night playing games on his computer, but I knew what I was getting into. This guy wasn’t my first gamer boyfriend — I was educated in their ways. When things started to get serious between us, the deal breakers for me were laid out in plain sight: when I needed him, he needed to make me a priority. When our future kids needed him, they, too, needed to be the priority.

And that’s about all I attempted to do to curb his gaming enthusiasm.

He’s now forty, and he still plays games. We’ve been married for nine years, and we are still going strong. He still spends a few hours in the evenings, after the kids go to bed, gaming, and he sometimes clocks in some daytime hours on weekends. But my demands, which is exactly what they were, have always been respected. Gaming is second fiddle to family time, and he’s happy to step away from the keyboard to be a part of the cozy little world we’ve created for ourselves.

Besides that — and this might surprise those of you who don’t know a gamer guy — gamers often don’t adhere to the typical gamer stereotype. You know what I’m referring to, no doubt: overweight, pimply, hygiene-challenged men sweating alone in their basements adorned with Star Wars figurines still in the packages. Jeez, I can almost smell the stale Cheetos.

Please — allow me to clear up this little misunderstanding for you immediately. First of all, not all gamers are men, and second of all, not all gamers are lazy butt heads who do nothing with their lives unless it involves ranking on some virtual ladder.

And not all gamers are kids. That’s an important point to remember — gaming is not a childhood-specific activity.

My husband is not a child, nor is he the sweaty basement guy. He’s tall and lean and smart, and he’s always nice and clean. He doesn’t segregate himself to the basement for hours on end, ignoring the real world, and he participates in our in person social life as much as he enjoys his online social life. As a couple, and now a family, we go out for walks and hikes and outings daily, getting our kids involved in sports and activities to help keep them, and us, healthy. My husband takes me out on dates, we pile the kids into the car for impromptu road trips, and our life is full of a variety of things, people, and places.

We also play video games.

My husband is definitely a gamer. He’s really, really good at it, too. But he’s many other things as well, things that add up to one wonderful, albeit infuriating, man. He’s the one who teaches the kids to ride their bikes, running along behind them as he holds on to the bike seat until they’re ready for him to let go. He’s the one who patiently discusses my daughter’s math conundrums and explains things to her in a way that she can understand. He’s the one who snuggles with the kids on the couch and watches the same Disney movie over and over again because it was merely requested.

And I don’t think anyone can cheer for his family any louder or prouder than that man cheers for us.

So I happily married my gamer guy, and I recommend gamers to every single person I meet, and those are just a few reasons. Here’s one more: I know where my husband is every night, and I’m not worried about him chatting up a bartender or drinking too much at a sporting event. I wouldn’t have to worry about him if he did those things, anyway, but it’s a comfort to have him home, night after night, doing what he loves without guilt caused by his wife.

I also recommend gaming with your gamer husband instead of fighting against it. I’ve dabbled in gaming my entire life, and I even write about it, but it’s more fun when I’m playing with him. He has also started to teach my daughter all the tips and tricks for gaming, as she’s begun a gaming obsession all her own, too, and the two of them have a blast together as they slay internet dragons and fight off zombie hordes.

There’s something wholesome about a man who loves to lose himself in a fantastical world in which he gets to play a hero, and it’s something that I would never prevent him from experiencing, unless it became an obsession that prevented him from living in our reality, too. Like anything else in life, too much of anything can be harmful, but if your boyfriend enjoys playing a white knight in a video game for a few hours a week, throw him a bone and marry the guy. If he checks off all the other boxes, who are you to judge?

Grab a controller, and get in the game. You might enjoy it, too.