How the Witcher 3 helped me through some really tough times.

I first discovered The Witcher 3 during a difficult period of my teenage years, around late 2015 and early 2016. Back then, my life revolved almost entirely around online multiplayer games like FIFA and GTA V, which served as the centre of my social world. Outside of those virtual spaces, I struggled with loneliness, low self-worth, and a constant sense of not enjoying my own reality. I wanted something that could pull me out of my head. I wanted to find an escape that felt meaningful.

I remember seeing a clip from The Witcher 3 in some WatchMojo-style video, specifically the infamous lighthouse scene with Geralt and Triss. As an isolated and hormonal teenager, the idea of a game where I could get laid (🤣), caught my attention. So I travelled with friends to a CEX two hours away to buy it. My baby face made purchasing an 18+ game impossible, but my tall, vaguely bearded friend succeeded. That moment unknowingly introduced me to what would become the most important piece of entertainment I’d ever experience.

Throughout 2016, I completed the game about five times. I fell deeply in love with the characters: Geralt, self-assured yet compassionate; Yennefer, sharp and commanding; Ciri, growing into her own power; and the supporting cast: Papa Vesemir, wise and steadfast and Lambert, sarcastic and kind of a dick. They felt like mentors at a time when I really needed grounding role models. Even my first disastrous attempt to romance both Yen and Triss taught me a lesson about choices and consequences.

When I first reached the ending, I felt a genuine emptiness. With no expansions yet, the game simply dropped me back into Kaer Morhen with a “thank you for playing and Geralt’s story is over.” I didn’t want to leave Geralt’s world. I wandered aimlessly through every Skellige point of interest before realising that what I craved was the story. So I loaded an earlier save, made more thoughtful decisions, and experienced a far more satisfying ending the second time around. Role-playing as Geralt wasn’t just fun for me, it offered meaning, control, and emotional escape when my real life felt unstable.

Escapism is often framed as avoidance, but it can also be self-expression and a way to reclaim a sense of freedom. At the time, school was suffocating. Social anxiety kept me from connecting even with people I considered friends. Geralt was an outsider who knows he’s different yet accepts himself. Getslt became a model for the kind of self-acceptance I couldn’t yet manage in real life. His moral clarity, quiet vulnerability, and ability to endure hardship resonated with me. Characters like the Bloody Baron or Syanna reinforced themes of accountability, compassion, and complexity. Geralt wasn’t just a protagonist; he was a guide.

Eventually I played the expansions, Hearts of Stone and Blood and Wine, which remain the best DLC's I’ve ever experienced. Gaunter O’Dimm instantly became one of my favourite villain. He was a cunning, supernatural trickster. Stories like his, and the Baron’s, drew me deeper into the world, though even then I knew my reliance on the game for escape couldn’t last forever.

As I approached university, I threw myself into the early Gwent community. I reached 23rd in the world during open beta, a small achievement that meant a lot at the time. Once I arrived at uni, however, my relationship with the game shifted. I stopped playing for long stretches, focusing on building a social life and working hard academically. Instead, I listened to the soundtrack while studying, the music giving me moments of calm and nostalgia. Occasionally I’d dip back into Toussaint which for me was the game’s warm, idyllic refuge

In later years I attempted more playthroughs, though sometimes I bounced off the early Velen slog. I wondered if maybe I’d outgrown the game. But in early 2021, after moving to London, working remotely in a draining job, and going through a painful breakup, I returned to The Witcher 3 almost instinctively. Once again, it helped me through one of the hardest periods of my life. As the playthrough grew more hopeful, so did my real life: struggling through Velen in January, finding optimism in Novigrad, and, by the time I reached Toussaint, moving into a new home and forming new friendships.

Today, the game has become something nostalgic and comforting rather than a lifeline. If I’m struggling, I might revisit it briefly, though now I mostly find my escape hiking outdoors. I still listen to the soundtrack daily, and I recently attended a live orchestral performance of it, which inspired me to reflect on the game’s impact.

When I think about what The Witcher 3 meant to me, I always return to that line from Blood and Wine: Regis asking Geralt whether he would choose to live his life all over again as a witcher. My answer, every time, is yes. It’s the perfect, affirming ending to a game that helped shape who I am.

I recently made a video (which I haven’t shared here as I know there are limits on self-promo but can be found on my profile) which was what lead to this post. Most of the above is ripped directly from what I outline in the video but I've summarised quite a bit as it’s nearly 20 minutes long 🤣.