The conclusion of the Nintendo Switch era marks the closing of a significant chapter in my life.

      My initial memory of the Nintendo Switch is quite ordinary. I can’t remember the moment I unboxed it, powered it on for the first time, or took it to a rooftop party. Instead, I find myself sitting in my ex-partner’s living room on a random weekday. As they cooked, I quietly began climbing onto my first Divine Beast in The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild.

      I don’t recall this moment because it represented some major accomplishment showcasing the capabilities of my new next-gen console; it sticks in my mind because I was feeling very down.

      While Nintendo was experiencing a remarkable rise in March 2017, I was plummeting faster than Link with an empty stamina wheel. I had just come out of a stressful election year marked by a string of beloved celebrity deaths. The world felt increasingly unstable, a concern that felt especially justified as a new administration began to disrupt the United States in March. My personal situation wasn’t any better; I felt aimless and trapped in a job I never wanted. My mood was declining, and I could sense a breakup on the horizon. It would be months until I sought therapy for the first time, so all this accumulated anxiety that I tried to suppress seeped into my Joy-Cons as I clung to them desperately.

      I find myself thinking about that small moment now with the June 5 release date of the Nintendo Switch 2 approaching. For the first time in eight years, I’ll be unboxing a brand new Nintendo console on that day. Its internal storage will be empty. I won’t be greeted by my Samus avatar when I turn it on because I won’t have logged into my account yet. The tablet will be a blank slate that I will fill over the next eight years one download at a time. Though this is a moment defined by corporate meetings and quarterly earnings calls, I see the beginning of a new console era as a chance to reinvent myself as well.

      Looking back on my life, I can trace my development through the video game hardware I’ve owned. My Sega Genesis brings back memories of early childhood spent playing Sonic the Hedgehog 2 with my brother before he became absorbed in his teenage angst. The GameCube evokes countless experiences from my high school years spent bonding with close friends over Super Smash Bros. Melee. I think of my college days when I recall the Wii, experiencing physicality for the first time both in my relationships and the games I played. Each console, each handheld tells many stories about where I’ve been and how I’ve grown alongside the technology that accompanied me.

      As I prepare to turn off my Switch for what might be the final time in a few weeks, this realization weighs on me. I initially wanted to process that moment through a retrospective of the system and the games that made it one of the greatest consoles of all time. However, I've found myself increasingly focused on reflecting on my own journey. Who was I during these eight years with the Switch? What will be the lasting memory I have when I think back on games like Super Mario Odyssey or Fire Emblem: Three Houses?

      The answer doesn’t seem as straightforward as it did when I was younger and console generations were shorter. I began this journey at a low point, feeling hopeless amid societal turmoil. The Switch accompanied me through multiple breakups, several jobs, three different apartments, the passing of a close friend, and unprecedented moments in history that took a toll on my mental health. Just as the Switch is intertwined with the pandemic that emphasized its strength, I cannot separate those eight years from the waves of turmoil and uncertainty that accompanied new game releases. If the Nintendo Switch 2 had launched in 2020, I could confidently say that the Switch symbolized the worst years of my life.

      But eight years is a considerable stretch of time, much longer than these hardware time capsules typically persist. A duration this extensive is bound to bring story arcs, both for the console and its players. Nintendo maintained a steady pace amidst fluctuating momentum in the surrounding landscape, but my journey was different. Although I started from the bottom, playing Breath of the Wild as an escape from reality, I began to improve. I entered therapy and secured a better job a few months after the Switch’s release, just as everything felt most desperate. I made a significant career shift in 2020, landing a dream position that set me on a path toward a career in video game writing I had always thought was unattainable. Eventually, I found my place at Digital Trends and established myself through work I take pride in. I navigated relationships that led me to a more stable and healthy situation. I reached a peak alongside the Switch in 2023, the same year it released The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom and Super Mario Bros. Wonder.

      Now, when I look into my Switch’s display and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the black screen, I see a period of rebuilding. These were