There's something extremely cathartic about running through (virtual) Disneyland dressed as Tinkerbell, but perhaps that catharsis isn't felt by everyone. In any case, allow me to explain how and why Disneyland Adventures somehow managed to heal a part of my soul.
Disneyland Adventures, originally released on the Xbox 360 for Kinect, is a game whose title doesn't deviate far from its description. It takes place in Disneyland, and you have adventures. It's as straight forward as they come, honestly. While going through the "adventures" (they're really mini games, let's not mince words) on such iconic rides as Splash Mountain and The Matterhorn is fun, the real magic comes from simply running around in the park proper. The park is painstakingly reproduced in the game, to the point where even the stretches of road between sections that connect places like Toontown and Main Street feel accurately portrayed. The game is a breeze, and really a collect-a-thon more than anything else, but it's also an absolute delight to play through simply because of its no stress approach. Nobody is pressuring you, you're not expected to finish anything within a time limit, and you can't really fail.
It is, after all, a children's game.
So perhaps that's part of why it resonated so strongly with me, being such a kid mentally. I think the admission that I'm psychologically stunted should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with me at this point, but I suppose it warrants repeating even now for the sake of clarity and context. I visited Disneyland regularly as a child, almost once a summer. My stepfathers parents lived in LA, so we went to visit them and always made a multi day trip to Disneyland. But these memories, treasured as they may be, are also marred with pain. My stepfather was an incredibly verbally and emotionally abusive individual. His actions at Disneyland were beyond controlling, and he made it a miserable time for everyone involved, or at least he did his best to do so. Somehow I still came away with some good memories of the place, despite his attempts to ruin it.
I was afraid to be overly feminine as a child, despite being a girl. I don't really have a reason for this, I just was. It hurt all the more to see my stepsister, who also abused me regularly, physically, get to be and do all the things I wanted so desperately. She hugged all the princesses, she got cute clothes from the shops, and I just stayed in the background, terrified of being seen. Going to Disneyland was a two pronged feeling for me; on one hand I adored the place and was in awe of it, but on the other hand I was so incredibly upset at how I was forced to interact with it simply because of the fear I had of my own "family". I got sweatshirts, I got keepsakes, I had pictures taken, sure. But none of them I can look back on and feel they really represent me, who I was or who I really am.
Gaming, as you're well aware by now in these reviews, is often a therapeutic tool for me. It's a way to sift through my issues, my problems, and manage them, work through them, in a healthy and positive manner. Disneyland Adventures, however, has been the most surprising one of all in this regard, and perhaps what's most amazing is I didn't even expect it to be.
To run through the park, care free with no parental guidance, dressed in any myriad of princess costume or Tinkerbell dress - which is what my avatar ingame usually wears - made me feel something I haven't felt in decades. Sincere, genuine joy. It isn't real, it's a virtual park, and sure, I'm not really that avatar, but as a standin experience? It helps me cope. Now I get to hug all the princesses, now I get to wear the dresses, now I get to make great - albeit virtual - memories. But perhaps the greatest example of healing through this experience came from something that, to most, would seem ridiculous.
In game, you do quests for park characters. Often mostly fetch quests. In fact the entire game is essentially nothing but a fetch quest of some sort or another, but that's neither here nor there. While running around in Tomorrowland, I happened upon Stitch. After talking to a character, your avatar is given the choice of a handful of gestures. You can ask for an autograph, you can dance, you can high five, or you can hug the park character you're currently engaging with. I chose to hug Stitch, and as a result, I had to stop playing because I was crying too much.
Perhaps this requires further explanation.
I saw Lilo & Stitch in theaters. In fact, I saw Lilo & Stitch in theaters about 30 times. I watched the TV series they aired a few years after, it was one of the first DVDs I ever bought when released, and I still have, to this day, a beautiful Stitch plush I bought in Downtown Disney as a child. Lilo & Stitch is one of my all time favorite films, and not just because it's a great movie, but because he resonated with me so personally. I was Lilo, man. I had no friends, I hung out with animals and I liked old music. All I wanted was a best friend, and my best friends were my dogs growing up. So Stitch was a character I heavily gravitated towards for emotional support, because of how much he cared for Lilo.
I never had anyone care for me. I never had anybody love me. I was alone, scared and queer. I was mentally challenged and terrified to trust anyone. Not to say I'm not those things anymore. Sure, I had a girlfriend of almost 8 years I live with, but I still am all those things. But here was Disneyland, the supposed "happiest place on earth" and I was having the most miserable time because of who I was there with.
Now I'm there again. In a video game, sure, but I'm there. I'm alone. I'm dressed as Tinkerbell and I'm hugging Stitch and I'm having the time of my life. The memories I'll retain from this gaming experience will far supersede the memories I actually have of Disneyland. Maybe one day I can go back to Disneyland for real, and maybe one day I can actually hug the best princess (it's Rapunzel, I'll fight you to the death on this hill), but until that day comes, Disneyland Adventures has given me something I desperately needed.
The ability to fix my past, and with it, a sense of closure.
The most fun I get from the game isn't even playing the game. Sure, all the "adventures" are a blast, and it's all so stress free and relaxing, but in the end, the most fun I get is from simply being in Disneyland, wearing a Tinkerbell costume and hugging characters. This hasn't been a game. This has been immersive therapy. It's a great example of a way to change some things you aren't happy with from your childhood, even if it's just through the medium of gaming. I'm almost afraid to finish the game, because I won't have any reason to keep playing it outside of 100% completion, but for once, I don't think that's true. I think Disneyland Adventures will be a title I load up regularly even after completion, just to enjoy being inside it. I may be unhappy, but it makes me happier than I've been in years, even if only for a little while, and that's worth revisiting for.
It's not a deep, complex, impressive title. It's a port of a Kinect kids game. But god dammit, it's what I needed to get me through my issues, to infinity, and beyond.
My name is Maggie. I write & make art for a living. If you like this post, you might also like my newest novel here and you can support me monthly on Patreon.
