It's 2026. I'm looking at my Twitch profile, and it reminds me that I haven't streamed in January. 35 followers, all real people.

The statistics remind me of what I have neglected. It means I have to look beyond the dashboard and ask myself a few questions.

Truth be told, I haven't streamed in months, not since August. I told myself that I would, with all the new games coming out in 2025, be ready to test. Heck, I've even managed to avoid spoilers for Deltarune's third and fourth installments. And yet, with all the chaos that ensued in 2025 from the real world, gaming, and the speculative fiction industry, setting up the area where I stream has become harder.

It's not because that area is in our guest room. No, the reason is more emotional: I streamed for myself and other people. Now I need to stream for myself again this year and have fun regardless of who comes to watch.

Why Do I Like Streaming?

I enjoy streaming on Twitch because it allows me to connect with my friends. Part of the reason I streamed Spelunky for so long, despite taking several years to beat the game, was that more than a few people who had heard me on voice chats were surprised to hear me swear. My online bestie even started a "fuck" counter after I ran into multiple hazards. Geometry Dash went even worse, as I immediately switched back to Spelunky after a few minutes of navigating a colorful shape through an obstacle course.

Sharing a gaming experience means going on a journey through story-rich games. I've struggled with Celeste as mentioned, but I ,also gave therapy to a robot and used a friendship to save a girl and her monster. The iffy games allow me to commiserate with the viewers who are similarly disappointed with the payoff.

Sharing a gaming experience with others also allows me to measure my amateur skills against professionals who can remain charming and hilarious. I like finding the underdogs, the games that an average Steam customer may not see on a first perusal.

What Happened in 2025?

Thanks to real-life events kicking me in the teeth and the heart at the same time, I left a friend group that I had joined nearly ten years ago. I won't go into the details, but it wasn't fun. Mainly, I'd stream, and people from that group tended to join. They're the ones that helped inspire how I would stream because some had the know-how, and others had the spark. One iconic moment had our friend group trying to guess how to find a star in one of the Deponia games; the answer left everyone, including the player and us viewers, baffled. (In hindsight, Deponia always goes for the absurd answer, but at the time I was saying "What?!" a lot when we got to that moment.)  

I'm still friends with some of those individuals, and others I have held at arm's length. Since then, however, preparing a stream has taken more physical and emotional effort. When you lose that many people after realizing you both have changed too much, it leaves you feeling empty. The void didn't register until halfway through the year, as I had games I wanted to stream but lacked the energy for setup and timing. I was sad and upset, letting the pain weigh on me. But I didn’t realize the consequences of sadness until the very end of December. 

Back to Streaming for Myself

If I were to stream for myself again and not worry about the emptiness, I would find a balance between troubleshooting the lag issues and enjoying the ride. Instead of worrying that I get boring when I get serious, as I stop talking and completely focus on the screen, I'd be me. That means accepting all the flaws.

In February, I hope to carve out that time and find the fun in streaming again. That means diving into Deltarune as well as new Steam arrivals. So many new creators want to show their games, and I want to give them a fair shake and an audience, even if it's a small one. First, though, I have to recover from this head cold. It's harder to say "fuck" when your voice comes out as a groaning squeak.

Playing Celeste was a good idea, but I didn’t make any progress until a friend took pity on me. He gave me instructions on how to activate the game's invincibility mode. As Madeline, whom I renamed Angel because the game gave me the option, I was navigating a dangerous mountain with numerous supernatural obstacles and strawberries as a bonus reward. 

Celeste updates haven’t been my top priority. I knew about the 8-bit spinoff but had otherwise put Celeste out of mind. Finding out that the game became a symbol for the trans community snapped me back to attention. 

On November 20, 2019, during Trans Remembrance Day, the Celeste crew posted the above screencap. You reach this point in the climb at the first chapter’s conclusion, where you can pay homage to the other mountain explorers who didn’t survive. The game does, with the memorial reading “This memorial dedicated to those who perished in the climb.” Soon after, Madeline has a nightmare of a dark self and her past haunting her, with a phone call to someone she knows would never dial her. 

A Climb to Crack Your Egg

It struck me, as more trans people are fighting for the right to exist, how Madeline is determined to climb. The mountain residents and guests like Granny and Theo ask her why she does it. She doesn’t have to traverse this mountain all the way to the top. Theo explores the ruins while Granny provides meals and instructions for the visitors.

Madeline can’t answer the question, admitting that she doesn’t know why she needs to climb, only that she must. It’s not that she expects to see or experience an epiphany at the peak; Madeline feels that she needs to complete the journey. 

The mountain helps people uncover their psyches and selves. Madeline’s insecurities, anger, and fear manifest in doppelgangers and colorful hazards. The more she persists, the more trigger-happy the obstacles become. Madeline wants to succeed because she needs to bring out that darkness and all her fears. She had an egg to crack.

What Did Celeste Uncover?

Developer Maddy Thorson is trans; she came out on Medium in a post that also revealed that the fictional Madeline is trans. Obviously, a gender identity doesn’t stay solid and can take a while to explore, so that gender could change in a few years or not at all. Thorson puts it best in the opening paragraph:

“But these are things that I was not aware of during the development of Celeste, where I was writing Madeline and speaking from her perspective. Creating Celeste with my friends helped me reach the point where I could realize this truth about myself.”

The team had also discussed revealing Madeline’s identity in the Chapter 9 DLC, an additional adventure that allows the player and Madeline to give a proper farewell to an important character. 

I haven’t heard of creating a game that helps the egg crack, but it makes sense. Jane Schoenbrun said they wrote I Saw the TV Glow to talk about their transition experience, and a good number of viewers mentioned they realized they were trans or nonbinary as well after seeing the movie. Co-star Jack Haven, who plays Maddy in TV Glow, came out as nonbinary after the movie’s premiere. Nate Stevenson mentioned that, in hindsight, concept art for the graphic novel Nimona, with the title character shapeshifting into a beefy man, was his subconscious speaking. 

For better or for worse, someone’s identity may not manifest as soon as they enter this world. It can take years, not helped by societal pressures or expectations. There’s a reason why many gay men and women end up in conventional relationships at a young age, only to languish within such a sham. 

Sometimes creations have those hints of what the subconscious knows. Internal crises show up within the narratives or character designs. Video games provide an excellent way to explore these conflicts because many different avenues allow us to play as different people, creatures, or beings. 

Uncovering Your Uncertainty

Madeline has to climb the mountain to deal with the growing storm within her. The natural hazards bring out her inner doubts and fears as Badeline, a floating entity that sends monsters to chase her host. While at first all Madeline can do is run, she tries to fight back at the first opportunity. She insists halfway through the game that she doesn’t need Badeline. Who wants a doppelganger chasing after them and trapping them in mirror temples? Badeline seems bad for Madeline’s health and later Theo’s well-being. 

Unfortunately, we can’t escape our negative feelings or doubts. We all fear failure and have hope right before life dashes it to bits. Badeline affirms violently that Madeline can’t tell her to go away or use a breathing exercise to fend her off. The two have to come to an agreement. 

To truly reach the top, Madeline has to reconcile with Badeline. Every human has those doubts and fears. If you have generalized anxiety, the anxiety is trying to keep you safe even as it makes you physically ill. Fighting it only makes you feel worse; what helps is when you confront it and communicate with others about it. 

Keeping Trans People And Representation Alive

2025 has truly become the year where we find out who we are. Who are we when our vulnerable neighbors and their creations are attacked? What will we do to resist the absurdity? I’ve seen those who stand up, communicate with their Badelines, and face pure evil. Others fold, and still more cheer on the cruelty. 

We have to keep climbing. If we don’t need to climb, we can provide support for those at the mountain base.

It’s a good time to return to Celeste and the mountains that we have to climb. I understand Madeline better with this concept, and I hope more people climb the mountain, making it to the top.