[STEAM] I bounced from more games than I completed in 2025, but I’m finally ready to say that’s okay

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It’s that time of year again, folks; that time where we check back in on our 12-month-old New Year’s resolutions and inevitably decide whether we’re total failures or beacons of success.

This was the year I was finally going to show more dedication and discipline by completing more games than I left unfinished. I played a ton of games in 2025, including everything from longer RPGs like Avowed, Jedi: Fallen Order, and Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, to smaller indies like

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Death Howl was a hidden end-of-the-year gem. Screenshot by Destructoid Though my list is long—what I’d consider a commendable feat for any self-proclaimed game connoisseur—I have had for years what I’ve felt is a dirty secret: very rarely do I finish a game. And in 2025, I barely finished two. It would’ve been a devastating hit to my resolve at the beginning of the year. But now, as I stare down 2026, I’ve not only come to terms with this defeat, I've redefined it as my own form of victory.

Now, ironically, roguelikes are the exception to my years-long struggle. And I say “ironically,” because, of course, you don’t actually “finish” most roguelikes—that’s sort of their thing. But I tend to do everything I can in them: defeating secret “final” bosses, unlocking all the cards or collectibles, or completing every achievement I can. Maybe it’s the fact that with roguelikes, you can step away for extended periods of time without having to keep up with a story or track the side quest you wanted to complete before progressing the main narrative. Whatever the reason, the genre has become a safe haven for me, offering me the chance to play at my own pace and on my own terms.

But RPGs or any other narrative-focused title are another story. Over the years, I’ve roamed the hilly countryside of Red Dead Redemption 2, visited distant galaxies in Starfield, and fought to save feudal Japan from Mongol invaders in Ghost of Tsushima—all games I’ve said I’d one day finish only to add them to the list of games I never will. There’s more on that list, too—a lot more, actually—but I’ll save us both the trouble of naming them off. What’s most disappointing about that list isn’t the number of games on it, though; it’s that I quite enjoyed a good chunk of them.

I wholeheartedly adored the fantastical world of

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and its delicious world-building and character design. But did I finish it? Nope! I cut my playthrough short to

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. Admittedly, my reasons were work-related, and I was a bit disgruntled at having to be pulled away from the eventual GOTY. But now, after over a month and a half away from the game, the notion of picking it back up feels daunting. I don’t remember where I left off or what areas of the map I had planned to return to before further progressing the story, and the process of finding out feels like work. It won’t stop me from trying, though, and that’s exactly what I plan to do in my upcoming staycation, so wish me luck.

What I’m not going to do, though, is stress if I inevitably fail. It’s a game. It’s meant to be enjoyed. If I’m not enjoying it for whatever reason, whether I don’t like the narrative's direction or if keeping up with a 70-hour title is too much for my schedule, it’s time for me to move on.

In years past, I’d try to force myself to keep playing. As I mentioned earlier, my gaming New Year’s resolution in 2025 was to see more games through to the end. It was the same thing for books, as it is every year. But inevitably, life happens, and my busy schedule pulls me away. And after a year of trials and tribulations—involving a burglary, multiple health scares, a series of unfortunate home ownership woes, and a car wreck (yeah, 2025 was rough)—I’ve learned life is too short to spend my free time on activities that don’t bring me joy.

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There's so much to enjoy in a game like Clair Obscur, even if you don't reach the end. Image via Sandfall Interactive At the end of this disaster of a year, I've realized finishing games was never the point; it was just the measuring stick I had used to track what I believed to be success. This may be a revelation some of you reached long ago, but the feeling of finally letting go is freeing.

Even though I never finished Avowed, I spent a solid 40 enjoyable hours in the world of Eora running around with the unflappable Kai and grumpy old Marius. My time in Jedi: Fallen Order gave me new insight into the Star Wars franchise, so I can better understand my George Lucas-obsessed friends. I burned nearly two whole days of play time on Clair Obscur, but I don't think I need to detail the benefit of experiencing a record-breaking, award-winning title as a games journalist—even if I still haven't unraveled the Paintress's secret.

There's so much joy to be had from simply playing a game without pressuring yourself to see it through to the end. I won't set a resolution in 2026 for that very reason, and with

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, it'd be stupid to try. So yeah, I'm going to keep bouncing between games at my own pace and chasing the joy where I find it. And if it fades, I’ll move on without guilt. Because if there’s one thing 2025 taught me, it’s that playing games should feel like freedom, not another obligation on an already overwhelming to-do list.

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