Board games were one of my great childhood joys—and one of my greatest terrors. I adored the click of dice, the scramble of pieces on the board, the thrill of a close finish. But every time my mum sat across from me, all of that joy came wrapped in dread. She didn’t cheat—but she played like losing wasn’t an option, and winning wasn’t complete without absolute mastery. They say you learn through losing, but her version of victory taught me just how painful—and isolating—that lesson could feel.
So, what’s it like to return to the world of board games as an adult? In many ways, it feels like stepping into familiar yet strangely new territory. The memories of childhood game nights, full of tension and high stakes, bubble back to the surface. But this time, I’m an adult—no longer the fearful child at the table, yet still, at times, haunted by the ghost of those old anxieties. My mother’s competitive spirit looms large. If I so much as mentioned I had a copy of Dungeons and Dragons, I’d be accused of trying to summon the devil—or perhaps just channeling an 80s-inspired look with bad haircuts and thick, obligatory NHS glasses.
Returning to board games as an adult can be a deeply emotional experience, often bringing a mixture of nostalgia, anxiety, and freedom. The excitement of revisiting old favorites clashes with a more grown-up understanding of the world—and what it means to truly enjoy a game, win or lose. If you were like me, the game’s outcome once felt like life or death; now, with some distance, it’s more about fun, strategy, and camaraderie. It’s a journey from competition to connection, from anxiety to enjoyment. But I can’t help but wonder: has the meaning of "winning" evolved, or is it still lurking under the surface?
