There’s a very specific kind of gamer who thrives on platforming chaos. You know the type—lightning reflexes, encyclopedic knowledge of hidden collectibles, able to navigate pixel-perfect jumps while casually sipping tea and talking strategy. I admire those people deeply.

I am not one of them.

When Nintendo dropped the trailer for the new Donkey Kong game coming July 2025, I knew within 30 seconds that I was not the target audience. And that’s okay. Because even though I may never 100% a Donkey Kong title, I still love being part of the gaming conversation. And I’m genuinely excited about what this new entry means for so many fans.

But let’s back up a bit.

My Gaming Comfort Zone

If you’re new here: hi, I’m Nicole—writer, cozy gamer, anxiety-sufferer, and someone who regularly gets emotionally attached to NPCs who give me turnips.

My happy place? Games where nothing explodes unless I ask it to. Games that let me forage for mushrooms in peace, pet some digital animals, or slowly decorate a room without the pressure of time limits or aggressive mechanics. The faster the gameplay, the more likely I am to yeet myself off a cliff by accident and immediately spiral into a self-deprecating monologue. (Which, honestly, is half the reason people watch me.)

So when I say this Donkey Kong game looks a bit out of my depth, I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m saying it looks really good… just not for someone who gets disoriented in games with more than one camera angle and a to-do list longer than a CVS receipt.

First Impressions: Big, Bold, and Bananas

Let’s talk about the actual trailer. It looks gorgeous. The environments are lush, animated, and packed with personality. The soundtrack? A bouncy blend of nostalgia and newness. And the gameplay? It’s clearly designed to challenge even seasoned platforming pros.

Hidden secrets, puzzle-like level design, fast-paced movement, and boss fights that require actual tactical thought—it’s all there. And if you’re into that, I think you’re going to have an incredible time.

Me? I spent most of the trailer squinting and muttering, “Oh no,” like I was watching someone parallel park too close to a fire hydrant.

The Anxiety of Being “Bad” at Games

There’s a certain shame that creeps in when you feel like you’re not “good enough” to enjoy a game. Like somehow, you’re missing out on a club you were never cool enough to join.

And as someone with anxiety, and autism, I internalize that stuff fast. I start wondering if I’m less of a gamer, or if I’m just too old, too slow, too distracted by the idea of crafting the perfect in-game mug of tea. But here’s the thing: gaming is supposed to be fun. And “fun” doesn’t have a single definition.

I’ve stopped trying to force myself to love genres that don’t feel right. That doesn’t mean I don’t try new things—it just means I’m gentler with myself when I struggle. That’s growth, right?

That said…

Plot Twist: There’s Co-Op

Just when I was ready to write this one off entirely, the trailer dropped a surprise: local co-op mode.

Suddenly, my brain lit up. “Wait,” I thought. “Maybe I don’t have to suffer alone.”

Enter: my husband. My Player One. The man who has, more than once, carried us both through perilous boss fights and mazes that made me want to uninstall joy itself.

We have very different gaming styles. He’s tactical and calm under pressure. I am a ball of panic wrapped in a sweater. But together? We balance out into something functional. Or at least entertaining.

So, while I might not dive into this game solo, the idea of playing co-op—with him doing most of the heavy lifting while I throw barrels, scream, and look for collectibles in the wrong direction—suddenly sounds… kind of fun?

Will we make it through unscathed? Unlikely. Will it be hilarious? Almost certainly.

The Joy of Letting People Enjoy Things

Here’s what I really want to say: it’s okay to not vibe with a game. It doesn’t make you less of a fan, or less of a gamer, or somehow missing the point.

In fact, I love how this new Donkey Kong game looks. It’s clear so much care and creativity went into every pixel—lush environments, playful mechanics, those clever little secrets hiding just off the path. The whole thing feels like a joyful jungle fever dream built for longtime fans and new players alike. And I wish I could be one of those people diving in headfirst, mastering every mechanic, chasing down every banana like a platforming god.

But if I’m being honest with myself—and I try to be—it’s probably just outside my ability level. Not in a “I’ll never touch it” way, but in a “this might make me cry in frustration after 20 minutes” kind of way. And that’s totally okay.

It doesn’t mean I don’t respect the artistry. It doesn’t mean I’m not excited. It just means I’ll likely be enjoying it from a different seat—probably curled up with tea, watching someone else stream it while I gasp, cheer, and occasionally shout “go left, no YOUR OTHER LEFT!” into the void.

We all have our gaming comfort zones. Some of us thrive on challenge. Some of us thrive on cozy. Some of us thrive on games where you can change your outfit twenty times before leaving the house. (No shame—fashion is a mechanic.)

What matters most is how games make us feel. Do they inspire us? Comfort us? Make us laugh? Bring us closer to friends and partners? Then they’re doing their job.

So no, this new Donkey Kong probably won’t be in my top 10 of 2025—but it will be in my heart. I’m still excited. For the fans. For the nostalgia. For the chaos. And maybe, just maybe, for that co-op couch session with my husband that ends in either laughter… or therapy.

Either way, it’s content.

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