I used to  sneak my Game Boy Advance into my school bag, even when my dad said I wasn’t allowed to bring anything that wasn’t for school. I’d hide it under notebooks and pull it out during break times just to keep going on Pokémon Sapphire. I remember trading Pokémons with friends using the GBA cable, the process alone making us feel like elite tech wizards at the time.

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Back then, being a nerd meant playing FireRed, Naruto: Ninja Council, and Harvest Moon—all without knowing how much these games were shaping me. I played Pokémon Crater (rest in peace) and Pokémon Deluge, but Crater was the OG. It had that strange magic that only early browser games had—simple but unforgettable.

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I played Dota 1 too, even though I didn’t fully understand it. I had this strange habit: I’d buy two Bloodstones every match, no matter what hero I was using, because they looked shiny and red. That’s it. No meta, no strategy—just vibes.

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Looking back, I even remember draining my dad’s printer ink because I’d print pages of random “graphic designs” I made using MS Paint and Word. I didn’t know what graphic design even meant at the time. I was just... tinkering. But now I know—that was nerd energy through and through. It wasn’t about knowing the terms. It was about passion. It was about wonder.

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Fast forward to now: not much has changed, really. Except that I’m married, and I no longer need permission to bring a game console or collectible with me anywhere. I still can’t say I’ve become any better at Dota (still no idea what I’m doing, really). But my love for Pokémon? That just grew deeper.

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Now I shiny hunt across all the Pokémon games. I keep track of them on a Google Sheet. My binder even looks like a Great Ball. This is what being a nerd looks like to me now. It looks different. Maybe more structured, maybe more intentional. But what it means to me hasn’t changed. Passion. Wonder. The joy of geeking out over the things I love—then and now.