I got Read Only Memories (2015) by chance when a friend who already had a copy got a key for it in a game bundle. Lots of people I knew loved it and I had been intrigued by the queerness that I had heard was present and well-done. The art style and feel of the game itself is wonderful and ROM seemed like the exact sort of game I love the most — a plot-based experience. I’m a nonbinary trans individual that uses strictly they/them pronouns; so when I first heard about and then met the ROM character Tomcat, it was a really big moment for me. It felt great to see that someone like me was respected in a game, and also that they were important and relevant to the plot. To see someone like me being treated positively encouraged the idea that I myself am deserving of that same respect, and boosted my confidence in my own abilities.

Tomcat, from ROM

My enjoyment of the game only increased when I reached the point where I was able to input my name and pronouns. It can really mean the world to read “they’re great!” or “they’re going to help” and know it’s in reference to me. I ended up using the name I now primarily go by as my name in something for the first time. Up until then I’d always presented it as just something someone could call me, as I had several name options to reflect my nonbinary identity. But that moment when I selected it, along with my respective pronouns, ended up helping me become a lot more comfortable with that aspect of my identity.

I wasn’t able to be out until a few months ago, so of course in my online existence I still leaned towards using my birth name and a more feminine presentation. I thought I was just genuinely comfortable that way, but I slowly began to realize that it was more a side-effect of being unable to live as myself in person. Enjoying that to the degree that I did made me realize that perhaps the dysphoria I was dealing with at the time could be reduced if I began to reflect my in-game choices in my life as well. So I did.

When you give people the ability to live as themself and to be recognized for who they are, in person or digitally, you allow them the space to begin to understand themself better. ROM did that for me. It can be difficult and even scary to try different things with your presentation and gender identity. This is especially true for any trans person who wishes to present or exist in a way that doesn’t align with the way the majority of other people with similar identities do. You worry that deviating in any way will allow opportunities for people to discredit you, to say you’ve been lying about who you are, or that you aren’t valid as an individual. But ROM gave me that safe platform. It allowed me to select and explore that part of myself in a space that respected that, and never ever made me feel bad about my choices. Ultimately it was an eye-opener, and means that now I’m living in a way that is a lot more comfortable and happy for me.

Imagine if all games with any sort of player-immersion allowed that, and not just with gender. In general, having mechanics that allow you to experience a wide range of people and aspects of life are more realistic, but also allow people to understand themselves more. When society doesn’t respect you or who you are, and when the communities that form as a result of that are intimidating, it is crucial to put the ability in player-immersive games for people to actually be themselves in-game. A month or two later after my playthrough of Read Only Memories, I’ve moved onto other games, particularly Stardew Valley.

Stardew Valley is also a game I’ve quickly grown to love, but it isn’t quite the same in regards to living as myself. You don’t select pronouns you select a gender, and the only options are male or female. It’s not too bothersome to me, and the dialog does use neutral pronouns in many scenes regardless of your choice, but there are some sections where they make a distinction. Particularly in the spa, if you try to enter the side that doesn’t align with what you chose, you get a message along the lines of: “Silly, that’s the ______’s room! You can’t go in there!”.

In an ideal world I’d go between binary restrooms as I chose depending on my feelings that day, or better yet, use a neutral restroom. In-game these aspects are small yes, and I know developers meant no harm in the choices they made, but when they make it feel “obvious” it can be unsettling. Especially right now, when many places are trying to police trans people’s access to public restrooms, something like that stands out. It doesn’t accurately reflect me, it doesn’t accurately reflect life, and it makes me feel bad about my choices. Details do matter, at least to me, because even the smallest thing can leave a large unease in your stomach. Games are one of the most beautiful mediums we as human beings have. They are art, storytelling, and film all in one. They are an immersion experience for many people from all walks of life and when they acknowledge that it shows and it gives the game a depth and security that many people feel and appreciate.

Comparing my experience with Read Only Memories to my experience with Stardew Valley results in a clear distinction for me. Both are great games that I love a lot, but those few uncomfortable scenes of distinction in Stardew ultimately mean I still feel more comfortable with ROM than anything else. Very few games allow that expression for players, and for a good period of time I felt discouraged from playing anything that didn’t because my dysphoria levels were already so high. I’m at a more stable point with myself right now, which I’m very grateful for, because it means I’m able to do more things and not be deeply affected by small details like I have been in rougher patches. Not everyone has that luxury of feeling okay and comfortable, and something like entertainment shouldn’t be something we have to worry about being difficult for us to enjoy.

Read Only Memories was a lovely game that I recommend to trans people as a game that will allow you a pleasant experience with gender expression. It may not be everyone’s favorite, but for me it kickstarted a new wave of transitioning in my life that I’ve been very happy with. It made me feel respected and valuable and inspired me to encourage all game developers to incorporate similar mechanics into their games. It also inspired a small game demo I was able to put together with a programmer for a game jam that I would love to finish someday. I hope to see more transness in games in the next few years, and I look forward to more positive queer-friendly material that’s to come.

Games are at a point of growth where more and more people are beginning to realize just how much good we can do with them, and I believe that games as a force for good and comfort are the future. Gaming doesn’t have to be an exclusive club, and it doesn’t have to follow a certain format. There are endless possibilities that can positively influence so many lives, but only if we chose to encourage that in our games. So I encourage you to explore that, and to encourage others to do so, and to support the ones who do, because you never know how much one game can change a life.