I’ll admit it: Elden Ring defeated me. Not just in the boss fights—though Malenia did make me question my life choices—but in the way it rewired my brain. I’ve played tough games before, but nothing prepared me for the sheer, unrelenting weight of its world. Every corner of the Lands Between feels like it’s hiding something—either a breathtaking vista, a horrifying enemy, or a lore snippet that’ll haunt my dreams for weeks. I’ve spent 120 hours in this game, and I still feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface. That’s not frustration; that’s magic.
What gets me is how Elden Ring respects my time. It doesn’t hold my hand, but it doesn’t waste my effort, either. Every death teaches me something, every shortcut unlocked feels earned, and every boss I finally conquer—after hours of trying—makes me want to scream in triumph. I’ve never played a game that so perfectly balances punishment and reward. And yet, I’ve rage-quit at least a dozen times. I’ve thrown my controller (gently, onto the couch). I’ve muttered curses at my screen that would make a sailor blush. But I always come back. Because Elden Ring doesn’t just challenge my skills; it challenges my patience, my perseverance, and my willingness to embrace failure as part of the journey.
The community around Elden Ring is another beast entirely. I’ve seen players help each other in ways that restore my faith in humanity—leaving cryptic but helpful messages on the ground, dropping rare items for strangers, or teaming up to take down a boss that’s been kicking their asses for days. But I’ve also seen the dark side: trolls invading worlds just to ruin someone’s day, or elitists gatekeeping “the right way” to play. It’s a microcosm of gaming culture itself—beautiful and toxic in equal measure. And yet, despite the occasional toxicity, the shared struggle of Elden Ring creates bonds. I’ve made friends in this game I still talk to daily, even though we’ve never met in person.
So why does Elden Ring keep pulling me back? Because it’s more than a game. It’s a test of character. It’s a world that feels alive, even when it’s trying to kill me. And most of all, it’s a reminder that the best things in life—whether in games or reality—are the ones you have to fight for.