Lost In The Forgotten Realms
Of Love (Part 2)
In
case you missed my explanation the first time around, this is the second in a
two-part series about one of the things that complicates gaming the most:
romance. Last week, I talked about things
to do and things to avoid when attempting to begin a romantic relationship with
one of your fellow gamers. This week, we
take things one step further; the topic is how to conduct yourself as a
gamer in a long-term relationship.
While not as common as the stereotypical single male gamer, couples who game together are steadily becoming more common. Many female gamers (myself included) are first introduced to gaming by their boyfriends, an arrangement which often leads them to stay with the hobby even if the relationship ends (as in my case). There are pluses and minuses to this setup. First of all, the number of women who come to gaming this way is so overwhelming makes it automatically a good thing in my eyes. Also, the presence of a (hopefully) supportive, patient, and understanding boyfriend makes for a much more friendly and welcoming environment for a woman to learn how to game than if she had just shown up at an all-male session without knowing any of the players beforehand. Finally, the fact that couples spend time together outside their weekly gaming sessions gives the new female player a convenient way to learn more about the game one-on-one, and to bring up any questions or concerns she may have about the game outside of gametime—an opportunity she might not have, were she gaming with a bunch of strange men.
There
are a few drawbacks to this system, however.
One problem is that many women who come to gaming this way only last in
the hobby for as long as their relationship with the male gamer lasts. This high rate of turnover can be hard on new
and established gaming groups alike. More
dangerous is a thing I like to call “the GM’s girlfriend syndrome.” It’s sad but true that women who join a
gaming group only because their significant other is running or playing the
game, whether or not they are talented gamers, often suffer a lack of respect
from the “real” players. There are so
many stories out there about GMs who bring along game-disrupting bimbos that
some narrow-minded players see all “taken” female gamers in that way. I experienced this firsthand in my original
high school gaming group; as long as I was involved with the GM, the other
players saw me as the GM’s girlfriend first and a player second. If my character had a good session, they
accused my ex of playing favorites (he wasn’t). And they were never willing to interact with my character because
they were afraid he would get angry at them if their characters and my
character “got too close.” Even after
we broke up and I continued on with the group, it took me a long time to gain
the full respect of the other players. If
you have a non-gamer girlfriend (or boyfriend) you want to bring into the
hobby, go ahead, but be wary of these possible pitfalls. Try reading my article on inviting new women to your
game for more concrete suggestions on how to do this.
Once
both of you are gaming, then what? In
an ideal world, things would go just swimmingly from there. The presence or absence of romances between
group members shouldn’t have much of an effect on the game (it is, after all,
fantasy), but let’s face it, it does. When
real life relationships begin and end, the emotions caused by these significant
events often find their way into our games—especially if the people involved
are both in the same gaming group. Whatever
you do, make sure that you and your fellow-gamer-turned-sweetie-pie both understand
that what happens between you in the game and what happens between you in real
life do not necessarily reflect each other, and that there will be no hard
feelings in one place because of what’s going on in the other. If, on the other hand, you want your roleplaying
to mirror your real life, I guess that’s your prerogative. But if, like me, you want to keep your games
as separate entities from whatever may be happening around you, there are
two things you should avoid: PDA and romantic metagaming.
Our
second term becomes more of a problem when relationships end. Romantic metagaming is what happens when
the real-life social dynamics between players bleed into their social dynamics
in the game. I’m sure you’ve seen
it at one time or another—those two players who just started dating suddenly
decide their feuding characters can work out their long-standing differences,
even though those characters are an elf and a dwarf. Or, on the other hand, a couple breaks up, and suddenly their sibling
characters have practically disowned one another. This is not a good thing.
Gaming is supposed to be an escape from reality, not a painful reminder
of it, and when fantasy starts mirroring reality too closely it can ruin a
perfectly good game. This problem is
quite easy to avoid; when starting or ending any relationship with a member of
your gaming group, be sure to discuss how it will affect the group. You and your significant other are rarely
the only ones involved in your group, so you owe it to the rest of the players
to work out a solution that won’t inconvenience them. This is most important when ending a relationship. You and your recent ex will need to decide
whether or not you can remain friendly enough toward one another to spend one
evening a week gaming together. If not,
one or both of you should probably leave the group; determine this by mutual
agreement. After you reach this
decision, inform your GM immediately so he or she can make any necessary plot
changes. A lot of groups fall apart because
of former couples who try to continue gaming together but just can’t be civil
to one another. If you see yourself in
this description, do the noble thing and find a different group. If at all possible, you should avoid inconveniencing
your fellow gamers because of what’s going on in your personal life.
But
in the end, none of these suggestions and quick fixes can measure up to what I
think is the best thing to do if you’re a gamer in love. I believe that romantically involved
gamers—at least, those who aren’t married or haven’t otherwise proven their maturity
and the seriousness of their relationship—are best served by playing in
separate groups. I realize this
suggestion is rather unorthodox, but before you dismiss it out of hand, give me
a chance to explain myself. First of
all, this setup eliminates the PDA and romantic metagaming issues altogether;
if you aren’t even playing in the same group, how can your character
interactions or displays of affection be a problem? If you ever break up, you don’t run the risk of breaking up a
gaming group along with you. It gives
gamer couples with differing tastes in games a way to indulge their individual
preferences without subjecting their love to a game he or she hates. It doesn’t require you to get to know new
people or integrate two noncomplementary groups of gamer friends for the sake
of gaming together. It offers you twice
as many new quotes and stories to recap and share with one another when you get
together outside of the game. And, one
night a week, it gives you a little break from one another that will make you
appreciate the time you have together that much more. It is a radical step, and some couples (especially those for whom
gaming constitutes a major part of their time together) may decide it just isn’t
for them. If so, I respect that
decision. But for people who are really
serious about keeping their gaming and their romancing separate, it may be the
ideal solution.
I
came to this conclusion after seeing firsthand how hard changes in real-life
relationships can be on gaming groups. This
winter, one of my friends broke up with her boyfriend of seven months (who had
introduced her to gaming). Two days
after the breakup, she began seeing one of her ex’s best friends. This would have been a sticky situation even
if these three hadn’t been involved in not one but two gaming groups
together. They had originally agreed
not to let the breakup interfere with either game, but after one session it was
clear that it would. The new couple broke
every rule in the book about PDA, to the point where they were spending as much
of the evening making out (in full view of my friend’s recent ex) as they were
gaming. The ex responded by kicking the
couple out of his game; after that session he simply told them they were no
longer welcome to play when he was GMing.
It’s been four months since that session, and it is doubtful whether the
ex’s game will ever resume. He then
quit the second game (which was being run by the new boyfriend) without notice,
despite the fact that his character was an integral part of the plot. The second game has survived, but just
barely; for this and other reasons, the GM made a major, sudden plot change
that essentially rendered two months’ worth of weekly sessions irrelevant and
has been difficult for the group to adjust to.
Our group and the friendships within it also survived, but the entire
ordeal was certainly not an experience I would wish to have again.
Most
of the problems I’ve described in my past two columns can be averted by common
courtesy and keeping your priorities straight.
By that I mean that your relationships—both romantic and friendly—are more
important than anything that can happen in your game. Gaming isn’t about how far into the module you can get or how
many dragons you can slay; it’s about having fun and forming friendships (and
possibly more) with like-minded individuals.
You should never be afraid to take a time out from your game to deal
with real-life issues such as these; if you don’t, you’ll soon find yourself
without a gaming group (or anyone else, for that matter). While playing a good game is always a
concern, the people you play it with are what’s really essential.
If
you think otherwise...I’m sorry, maybe you aren’t ready for these kinds of
relationships just yet.
Copyright (c) 2001 by Beth
Kinderman. This is my original work, so
please respect it.