You wouldn’t think that staring at a screen for eight hours a day could do you any good, but that’s exactly what happened with me.

I’ve always been the quiet one: I sat alone at the lunch table, and I stuffed my face into every book I could find. As a child, I didn’t care for the company of other children. My books and stuffed animals gave me comfort during my parents’ divorce. That all changed with a small, square box. After the divorce, my father had moved away, but one of the first presents he sent my brother and I was a GameCube. We had no idea what video games where: that was about to change.

Sonic was our hero before we had even heard of Superman or Batman. With the option for co-op, the Jones kids had a time racing through Green Zone and taking on the evil Dr. Eggman. That little purple box was a gateway to uncharted lands that had yet to be explored, and we were adventurers waiting to discover those mysterious lands. Of course, it was only a couple of years before we realized that other kids played video games. Our step-siblings and we would wirelessly play Mario with each other on the Nintendo DS, and it was a fun way to interact with classmates on a long field trip.

Then we entered high school. My brother, being the competitive brother he is, bought a used Xbox 360 and wrecked on "Call of Duty" multiplayer. I was still watering virtual gardens, but my brother beat me to the international servers and was forging alliances with complete strangers. He also made friends with boys in his grade that also enjoyed the shooter genre. Toward the end of my senior year, "Pokemon" became very competitive. What friends I had were thirsty for battle against my adorable pets. But I still hadn’t discovered the potential of video games.

Again, I was shy growing up, and I probably still am reserved around other people. However, watching hundreds of "World of Tanks" replays illumined my mind. I realized that there were thousands of other people who had visited those fantastical lands that previously only I had known. Facebook groups became a hub for trading and battling with friends. As I learned what to say (and what not to say) around people, I discovered that talking about video games was a crutch for good conversation. However, it didn’t stay a crutch for long. My friends who were just as nerdy as me loved hour-long conversations about weapons, quests, and final bosses. I could be quiet and hang out just by playing my favorite video game, but it became more than a foot in the door for social interaction. Pretty soon I was requesting hunting parties and attending cosplay conventions. Video games are a great gateway into a discussion, but as I’ve learned, it doesn’t have to stop there. Friendships are more than online interaction, and I have several great friends today who do more than gaming. Still, I’m proud to say that some of my favorite memories came from long nights exploring new lands at the end of a controller.