When my atomic purple Game Boy Color was stolen in 1999, I tried not to cry. I was 9, and I already did that too often. And I didn’t want to be seen as a child anymore.

A couple of years later, in an attempt to be viewed as more mature, I was watching fewer cartoons and picking out polo shirts instead of graphic tees. When relatives said I was too old to be photographing Pokémon on my Nintendo 64, I pretended not to care, though my nonchalance masked my continued attachment to those types of games.

Often anxious, I hoped to be perceived as tough instead, convincing myself that I wanted to play football in the streets and Madden 2000 with a controller. As part of my self-preservation, I distanced myself from video games that were considered childish by many.

So I left Nintendo behind for nearly two decades, before returning in 2017 with a Switch, which was pitched as the portable device that you and your friends could enjoy on the go. This week’s arrival of the Switch 2 has reminded me how getting back into Nintendo games as an adult helped me heal that inner child.

While growing up in South Florida, I had embraced a false bravado with the hopes of fitting into a culture that dismissed softness. I took up karate, tried getting into competitive intramural sports and dressed in the baggy jeans, oversize basketball jerseys and bandannas folded like my favorite rapper.