Roll for Self-Confidence

Riverdale, The CW

I pride myself in being an open-minded person. I generally avoid judging people based on how they look, who they love, what higher power they choose to worship, or the hobbies they prefer to partake in during their free time. That said, I have an admission to make. I used to hard core judge people who played Dungeons and Dragons.

In retrospect, this judgement was completely unwarranted. I simply saw D&D fanatics as nerds who had nothing better to do on the weekends than sit around a table and roll oddly shaped dice. I bought into the portrayal of D&D that popular culture loves to shove in my face. No, not the satanic one. The portrayal of D&D as a hobby dominated by male geeks, likely wearing ridiculous fantastical ensembles, shouting nerd jargon I didn’t recognize at each other as the Dungeon Master wore a flowing cape and watched on. Now that I play D&D, I realize that the entire game is more complex, more entertaining, and more empowering than I could have ever imagined. 

My journey into the depths of D&D started on a rather ordinary Monday afternoon. I walked into my kitchen after a long day of school and my phone alerted me of a new text. It was my friend; they were creating a D&D campaign from scratch and wanted to know if I’d like to join. My first instinct was to thank my friend for the offer but politely decline. However, I let myself ponder the idea of joining a campaign. True, the hobby seemed miles away from my wheelhouse, but the idea sparked a new adventurous side of me. I asked who else was playing, learned it was a collection of my good friends from school, thought what the hell, and joined the campaign without knowing a single thing about D&D.

I still knew nothing about my new hobby a few weeks later when I arrived at my friend’s house to build my character. Since I was flying blind, my friend offered to walk me through the character building process step by step. That Sunday, I created my first character: an aasimar bard named Fidelia. To those who don’t play D&D, I know that that string of words made absolutely no sense. Basically, Fidelia is a celestial being well-versed in music and magic. To those who do play D&D, I was completely unaware of the stereotypes surrounding bards (aka their infamous promiscuity). I built my character relying on little D&D lore. Rather, I picked character traits that sounded fun. Thus, Fidelia’s instrument of choice became the triangle, and she got a fiancé who worked for the magical CIA.  

After creating Fidelia, I became filled to the brim with a new level of excitement surrounding D&D. It was the kind of excitement that surrounds gaining a new hobby. A feeling I hadn’t stumbled across in a few years. I bought myself a set of glittering, pink dice, and stayed up way too late watching D&D campaigns on YouTube. When the day of our first session came, I was completely unprepared to battle, cast spells, or even make the most basic decisions. Still, in those three hours, I smiled more than I had in a long time. Since then, I’ve gathered more D&D knowledge, rolled a few nat 20s, almost died in battle, and made my party members laugh. I found a fantastic, new hobby. 

And I thought this hobby was fantastic for a plethora of reasons. Playing D&D over Skype amid a pandemic with friends is the best source of escapism I’ve found. D&D allowed me a chance to exercise my creative muscles, without actually having to write and publish anything. But most of all, D&D gave me a bought of self-confidence I didn’t think I could have. 

I created my character, Fidelia, as a reflection of me but better. She’s incredibly confident, a bit chaotic, and happy in her own skin. She doesn’t take herself too seriously while I’m a studious, goody-two shoes. She’s got a wonderful fiancé which is the dream for a hopeless romantic like myself and is comfortable with her queerness. She has a pixie cut which is my dream haircut, though my curly hair would never allow it. Playing as Fidelia allowed me to let loose. I plot insane plans and use magic for frivolous reasons. I crack jokes relentlessly, then sprout literal wings at the end of the day to show off my celestial magic just for kicks. 

Sometimes, I feel Fidelia’s personality seep into my own, like when you begin to unintentionally mimic the friends you spend too much time around. My conversations are filled with a significantly larger ratio of jokes. I don’t apologize for doing the things I think are best for me. I let myself waste the days away in D&D internet rabbit holes and podcasts, rather than filling every waking minute with productivity. I’ve let myself take Fidelia’s best qualities for myself. And sometimes, when playing, the line between where I end and Fidelia begins becomes blurred. 

I don’t pretend to be an expert on D&D. In fact, if you asked me a question on the subject, I’d probably direct you to an internet forum. But I am a living endorsement of D&D. Not just because it’s a fun hobby, but because it’s given me permission to be more comfortable as myself. I might not be a badass, angelic musician like Fidelia, but I am a girl who shuttles her dice around with her in her purse and gained a glint of magic in her eyes from a faraway realm. 

If you asked me to defeat red dragon in D&D, I’d probably get knocked out and fail all my saving throws. However, if you asked me to roll for self-confidence, I guarantee I could show you a nat 20.