I only just became a parent a little over 5 years ago, but it has already changed the way I view stories centering around family, in video games or otherwise. Around 8 months after my wife and I had our first child, we went to see A Quiet Place Part 2 and, despite it being an excellent film, we had a difficult time enjoying it because the peril the kids went through in the movie just made us miss our own daughter. That still happens on a regular basis when we’re away from our kids, as one of the greatest mysteries of parenting is being exhausted and overstimulated by their very presence and yet wishing they were still around when they’re away. And that feeling comes on even stronger when you’re following narratives where parenthood and family are central themes, as they will either make you more aware of your shortcomings as a parent or simply remind you that the blessing of children is one not to be taken for granted.
While movies and TV have historically been the primary media responsible for making parenthood hit harder, video games have also been delving into that world at an increasingly rapid pace over the last decade and a half. My personal journey through parenthood may only be less than half of that timeline, but even looking back at the stories I experienced before becoming a parent, some of them sit differently now. Games like Death Stranding, God of War, and Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 all hit harder once you become a parent, and considering they have been known to strike an emotional chord even with non-parents, the way they change after having children says a lot about how powerfully games can speak to that part of the human experience.
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Death Stranding and Death Stranding 2: On the Beach
What is more important than spending every second with my kids? The honest answer: nothing.
The first Death Stranding launched a little under a year before my daughter was born, so carrying Lou around didn’t really impact me the way it might have had my daughter arrived earlier. It made my heart melt to hear her cry, and I definitely felt a personal responsibility to ensure she was kept safe and taken care of. However, it wasn’t until I played Death Stranding 2: On the Beach last year that the reality of who Sam was carrying, and the bond the two of them had formed during their travels together, really began to set in.
Who’s That Character?
Identify the silhouettes before time runs out.
Identify the silhouettes before time runs out.
Easy (7.5s)Medium (5.0s)Hard (2.5s)Permadeath (2.5s)
Major Death Stranding 2: On the Beach spoilers ahead.
As Death Stranding is one of my favorite games of all time, returning to its world in the sequel felt like coming home, only this time, the context of my life had me viewing things differently. At that point, I had a 4-year-old daughter as well as a son who was just a little over a year old, so seeing the interactions between Lou and Sam meant more than it ever had. Sure, Lou may not be my daughter, but having a daughter of my own caused me to view Sam’s, and ultimately my, relationship with her in a different light. The same natural urge I feel to protect my daughter at all costs, I felt to protect Lou in Death Stranding 2—this virtual character who can never truly die because she isn’t real anyway.
When Sam left home early on in Death Stranding 2, I found myself wishing he wouldn’t. I’ve been away from home far too many times as a parent, and even though it hasn’t really been much at all (I’m a very present father), it still feels excessive. I don’t want to miss any moment of my children’s lives, and leaving means I will, even if it’s only for a day or two. In the same way, I didn’t want Sam to leave either. I had a feeling something would go wrong, and a part of me was even tempted not to progress the story, just so I could stay with Lou a little longer.
The same natural urge I feel to protect my daughter at all costs, I felt to protect Lou in Death Stranding 2.
Unfortunately, my desire to see the story through eventually took over, and once I finally brought Sam home, Lou was already gone. Fragile was unsuccessful in her attempts to protect Lou, but I didn’t blame her. I blamed myself; I blamed Sam in the same way he blamed himself. Why did he leave? Why do I ever leave? What is more important than spending every second with my kids? The honest answer: nothing. This was a moment that hit me so hard as a parent, it took everything in me just to continue Death Stranding 2‘s story—and I know I’m not alone in that either.
- Released
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June 26, 2025
- ESRB
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Mature 17+ / Blood and Gore, Partial Nudity, Strong Language, Violence
God of War (2018) and God of War Ragnarok
That’s what every good parent wants—not to continue apologizing, but to never need to apologize again.
The 2018 God of War reboot is another example of a game that came out before I had the chance to connect with it as the parent that I am today, as it launched a couple of years before I had my first child. I was able to relate to Atreus a bit, not because of my relationship with my father, but on account of my relationship with my grandfather. He was a hard-headed brute who expected all boys to be men, regardless of their age, and it made working for him and simply being around him challenging, to say the least. Somewhere beyond his tough exterior, though, I knew he loved me—he just didn’t know how to show it.
But when God of War Ragnarok was released in 2022, I had a 2-year-old girl. My new reality as a father was really starting to make some ground, as my daughter could effectively communicate with me, and we were thus beginning to understand one another. At that point, I had already made more parenting mistakes than I care to admit, and because of that, I was learning what it meant to either apologize for my actions up front or to go to bed feeling guilty until I inevitably repent the next morning. In the end, that’s what made God of War Ragnarok one of the most emotional gaming experiences I’ve ever had, to the point that I’m still bitter it didn’t win Game of the Year.
Major God of War Ragnarok spoilers ahead.
As a non-parent who is still someone else’s child, I always wanted Kratos to apologize to Atreus for his words, his behavior, and his failure to love his son in the same way I and any child wants their parents to. However, as a parent, seeing Kratos finally break down, acknowledging his actions and asking Atreus to forgive him broke me in a different way. Now, I wasn’t just witnessing the reconciliation of a father and son from the viewpoint of a son, but from the viewpoint of a father. And not just a father, but a father who has occasionally and unintentionally said or done things—whether I’m stressed, hungry, or tired—that I know are hurtful to my children because of how those moments affected me as a child.
I know “mom guilt” is a thing, but “dad guilt” is too. Sometimes, the words just come out, the temper isn’t used righteously, or the work takes precedence over the silly gymnastics that, to them, are mind-blowing and worth witnessing. It’s never abusive, but it’s nonetheless unnecessary and still affects my children, whether I see the results immediately or not. The goal is to be constantly aware of that and to make regular conscious decisions to behave accordingly. God of War Ragnarok nails that aspect of parenthood to a tee with one line from Atreus after Kratos apologizes. “Don’t be sorry, Father,” he says. “Be better.” That’s what every good parent wants—not to continue apologizing, but to never need to apologize again.
- Released
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November 9, 2022
- ESRB
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M For Blood and Gore, Intense Violence, Strong Language
Clair Obscur: Expedition 33
While I may not understand what the Paintress was going through, I can better understand why she responded the way that she did.
Major Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 spoilers ahead.
The core theme of Clair Obscur: Expedition 33‘s story is grief after loss, but particularly how parents deal with the loss of a child and how that choice impacts the surviving family moving forward. Fortunately, I have not experienced the tremendous pain that comes from losing a child, though I can’t even begin to understand it, but I never want to, regardless. As a parent now, seeing other parents go through something that traumatic, I have no idea how they’re ever able to move past it. I suppose they never do, to some extent, but living to see another day without your children in this world is a pain that I am certain is too unimaginable to explain.
What’s interesting is that Clair Obscur: Expedition 33‘s Paintress is so quickly labeled the villain as she carelessly wipes out entire generations for seemingly no reason, and yet it’s all ultimately due to the immense agony she feels after losing her son in a tragic accident. Inflicting pain on someone else, simply because you are hurting, is absolutely never acceptable and doesn’t inherently qualify you as a hero, but the misery it comes from is understandable all the same when it stems from the loss of a child. As such, while I may not understand what the Paintress was going through, I can better understand why she responded the way that she did.
But that part of the story isn’t the only thing that hit me hard as a parent. When Renoir chose to let Maelle (Alicia) stay in the Canvas near the end of Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, it had to be one of the most difficult things he has ever done. By letting her remain in the Canvas, he was trusting her to return to the real world, all while knowing that staying there for too long would eventually claim her life.
As a father myself, while I haven’t been even close to anything similar, I do know the feeling of choosing to step back and let your kids fall so long as it helps them grow. Rather than protecting them from skinned knees and bruised elbows, you let them happen, not because you don’t love your kids, but because you want them to learn that falling is a part of life, and if they won’t always have you around, you want them to know how to get back up on their own. That doesn’t make it easy, though, as I still find myself saying “Be careful” and standing between my children and danger of any degree. So, hearing Renoir in Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 tell his daughter, “I’ll keep the light on for you” and then stepping away was a lesson for me in trust, and I know it’ll be even harder once my kids are older.
- Released
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April 24, 2025
- ESRB
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Mature 17+ / Blood and Gore, Strong Language, Suggestive Themes, Violence
- Developer(s)
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Sandfall Interactive
- Publisher(s)
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Kepler Interactive
Parenthood Is Changing How a Generation Experiences Games
These are obviously only a few examples of games that hit harder once you become a parent, and I know this is only the beginning of that too. Many of us who grew up with video games are older now, with spouses, kids, homes, responsibilities, and a much different understanding of what it means to love someone so much that their pain feels like your own.
As that audience continues to grow, games are likely going to keep telling stories that speak to that stage of life more directly, whether through loss, protection, sacrifice, guilt, or the strange ache of missing your kids five minutes after finally getting a break from them. Parenthood has a way of reaching back into stories you thought you already understood and revealing something new, and for me, these games are proof that the older I get, the more video games seem capable of growing up with me.
