If you google the term “Waifu,” you’ll probably see some images of scantily clad anime girls and the following definition up somewhere near the top of the search results:

Predominantly referring to anime and video game characters, a Waifu is a fictional female character adored by male fans. What separates a Waifu from a “crush” or something similar is the singular love between one man and his one and only Waifu.

However, before playing through the entirety of Baldur’s Gate 3, I could not wrap my head around what exactly a Waifu was. The sticking point for me was the “singular love” aspect of what the above definition attempts to convey. I am a casual anime fan, but never found myself falling head over heels for one of the characters in, say, HunterXHunter or Fullmetal Alchemist enough to find the depth of feeling within me to fully understand what was going on here.

Even when I started playing Baldur’s Gate 3 and found myself drawn to the stories of characters like Lae’zel – who my deep gnome warlock, Lil Joshie, would end up committing himself to, body and soul – I was not thinking of the githyanki and her fellow party members, Shadowheart and Karlach, as Waifus. Yet there Lil Joshie was, traveling with three powerful women, each with their own tragic backstory, trauma, and romantic intrigue to boot. Each who I, the player, enjoyed getting to know. Each who, in spite of their being merely pixels on a monitor, touched my heart and taught me about what it is I value in interpersonal relationships with humans, tieflings, and psychic aliens alike. 

When I was at my peak of nerding out over the game, probably around eighty hours in, I made a hobby of reading year-old reviews that chronicled its resounding success at launch. I hit all the major publications: Eurogamer, Polygon, PC Gamer, PC Mag, Game Informer, The Verge, Ars Technica, etc. In one of them, I forget which, I read a sentence that referred to some of the game’s protagonists as Waifus. Then it dawned on me.

A Waifu is a character that marches off the screen. A Waifu is a “someone.” Someone you are scared to love. Someone that you do anyway. 

I used to think the term was just a way for members of certain fandoms to take their somewhat taboo attraction to anime girls way too far. And I still do think that the sexual objectification inherent in the neologism and many of its earnest embracers is quixotic and damaging. 

That said, a more nourishing interpretation of the word speaks to how fictional characters can impact us and teach us important things about ourselves and the part that interpersonal relationships play in our lives. 

The majority of video game detractors will tell you that the medium is a vehicle for isolation, an unhealthy outlet for people to escape from their problems into a fantasy where they can act how they please with zero consequences. Baldur’s Gate 3 taught me what a Waifu is. It also showed me how impactful video games can be as conveyors of meaning when it comes to the importance of close relationships between people committed to a common goal and/or to one another. It’s the reason I know my girlfriend is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, the exhilaration I experience when I step out on the ultimate frisbee field on a scorching hot summer’s day to get better with my teammates, the tears that paint my eyelids when I am graced with a connection between something I observe out in the world and a previously unfelt feeling. 

Waifu is not the best word for these things. It carries hyper-sexualized notions of made-up women whose only defining characteristic is their collective inability to exist in the real world. Most Waifus are adored by their fans due in large part to their intangibility, the sheer exoticness of fantasy. 

However, the writing and acting of a game like Baldur’s Gate 3 can help us reclaim the term, separate it from harmful gender norms, and make it more about the emotional catharsis of connection than its other more dubious connotations. Leading with this connective reclamation will serve to ground us in a place where we can have a healthier relationship with our favorite artifacts of pop culture and ourselves.