- As a kid, Elspeth Wilson played ‘The Sims’ obsessively when the real world got too much.
- She explored bisexuality in the game by flirting with all genders and hosting same-sex weddings.
- Wilson later realized that his passion for “The Sims” was also a celebration of autism.
When I was growing up, I hated loud noises, became incredibly distressed when plans changed, and often had major meltdowns when overwhelmed. I didn’t understand what was going on, and no one else did.
When I got a scholarship and transferred to a new secondary school, I was too tired by the time I got home to pretend to be anything other than who I was, so I did a lot to look normal and likable. I spent the time of
It turns out that my true self was exposed in the study at the end of the living room of my parents’ house. This was where the family computer was located and the only access to the internet and video games.
As an only child, the first thing I did when I walked out the front door was run to the swivel chair to listen to the cheerful loading music of my favorite game, The Sims.
I loved the possibilities of “The Sims”. Away from the casual homophobia that was a normal part of my school life, it was a world where you could make romantic contact with anyone you liked. bottom. It was also a world where one could enjoy one’s creative interests at the cost of becoming a millionaire novelist or selling enough paintings to buy a mansion.
It was pure fun not having to worry about doing the “right” thing or being judged.
If there are people who want to create a world like The Sims, there may be more hope than I could have felt after living my life suppressing my unrequited love for girls.
Slowly, the fun and imagination of The Sims began creeping through the library
If I experienced too much noise or too much bright light, I was less likely to fall into uncontrolled sobs and sobs. I knew
I started telling my parents stories about my “sim” family. I tested the water, including a family with same-sex parents, to see how the words felt on my tongue. I was worried about my parents’ reaction, but they listened to me empathetically.
When I played The Sims with my friends at school, I realized that there were more people just like me than I thought, even if I wasn’t quite sure who I was yet.
One of my friends and I would run to her family’s computer after school and take turns at the mouse while growing our business empire, building a commune-style family, and getting along with everyone. We didn’t even have to talk about what we were doing. There was an unspoken solace in not having to keep up with school grades and pressures.
At one point, I had a “Sims” character go through a lesbian wedding and used the situation to ask a friend if he would ever kiss a girl in real life. Gender identity and sexuality weren’t discussed much when I was a kid, but The Sims opened up possibilities that weren’t discussed in the mainstream.
Coming out as bisexual is now more comfortable thanks to The Sims
Having a safe space to explore the unseen parts of me, or the parts that society has refused to see, ultimately made a difference in how I acted and behaved in other aspects of my life. believe.
I had a place to experiment and think about who I was and who I liked, away from judgment and discrimination. Much of the work of identifying oneself took place in intimate and pleasant spaces — either alone or with a trusted friend. By the time I was ready to tell people I was bisexual, I was confident and unwavering about who I was and how I felt.
Games also helped me understand autism
In my twenties, I started reading about neurodiversity and autism. I have found that many people with autism have so-called “special interests”. They want to learn everything possible about a subject and spend as much time on it as possible.
In an instant, things fell into place. My familiarity with the game, freed from many of the world’s hardships, such as sudden noise, unpredictability, and heteronormativeness, is not only a sign of my own nerve divergence, but also a celebration of it. was. In hindsight, “The Sims” appealed to many of my neurodiverse traits, like a desire to control myself. It filled me with autistic joy before I even knew what it meant.
Wherever you are, wherever you go, you know you have the comfort of escaping into virtual worlds if you need to. But The Sims already gave me such an important tool and long-term reassurance that I need it less and less now. It goes much deeper than the pixels above.
