What’s with the Pokémon?

I thought you’d never ask! Ok, here goes:

Did you know I used to draw? ✍🏽 No lie, in 3rd grade I had a money jar on my desk and sold Pokémon drawings to my classmates. On my birthday month last year, I took to picking it back up. This ended up becoming a series, a team of six, each representing different parts of me.

As a mindfulness strategy I came up with, I switch between them as phone wallpapers when I sense emotional shifts in my day, similar to how you would in a Pokémon battle. Each plays a role to protect me in a way that makes sense to them. Why Pokémon?

Why Pokémon? The franchise was definitely an obsession for me growing up. Now in my inner child work I’m aiming to come back to that earlier version of myself, like a D.S. al Coda if you will, to recapitulate, to revisit this lore with curiosity about what it meant to me, and discovering what it can mean for me now.

Charizard houses my anger. His highest stat categories are speed (which represents the impulsivity of rage) and special attack (which represent how my expression of rage is often not physical but burns like fire). Charizard represents the part of me that is most in tune with my needs and fights vigorously for them. But if I don’t use him often enough in battle I miss out on self-expression and he can be too explosive when his time comes.

Gengar represents my escape. He’s the part of me that retreats to a world of isolation when the world becomes too much. Every part of me serves a purpose for meeting my needs and this part is no exception. But too much of this coping mechanism and I experience disembodiment, a detachment from my true reality. I become an observer of my life rather than one present in his own story, like a ghost.

Mr. Mime represents my logic and reasoning, the part of me I tend to over-rely on. For any OG Gen 1 Kanto players, you know that the psychic type was OP. You could often sweep players with this type and it never had a true check until gen 2 introduced dark type. When I over-rely on my logic, I can function fairly well, with walls and defenses like light screen and reflect. But when it comes to strategy, he works best with teamwork and setup moves like barrier, substitute, and baton pass. Overuse him and you have an underdeveloped team that is not prepared for a variety of attackers.

Jigglypuff represents my creativity and pride. His power is in his voice and without that, I lose a crucial part of myself: the fuel to my aspirations. I intentionally chose one of the original Gen 1 Pokémon that later gained the fairy type. For me, I’ve learned that embracing softer, more emotional, or “flamboyant” traits doesn’t make someone weak; it makes them whole. Still, toxic masculinity has sometimes made me hide this part of myself. The inner critic whispers: “That’s too much… tone it down… no one will take you seriously.” But I’ve learned that creativity and vulnerability belong in strength. If I let Jigglypuff lead too long, sure — I might drift into dreamland a bit. But he’s still vital to my balance. Logic, focus, and even a little anger all play their part — just like a real team.

If I’m honest, I’ve been ambivalent about Psyduck being on my team. But it’s clear he plays a huge part in my life and he was one of the easiest to identify. He represents the part of me that overworks until burnout, my Overwhelm. He’s the one that takes the brunt of my internalized criticisms and transforms it into spurts of power. I’ve found that he is responsible for a lot of the successes in my life, and yet, I treat him like one of my weakest parts. Truth is, he’s a powerhouse. And he deserves rest, validation, and permission to say no.

Did you know that the apostle Jude was also called Thaddeus? He’s often referred to as having a tender, child-like heart in comparison to the other 12 disciples. Someone once shared this with me and since then it’s never left my mind. I’ve identified very much with this. I mean, here I am drawing Pokémon as a grown-ass man! 😆😆😆

Eevee is my repair. I landed on him representing this core part of me for several reasons. One, he’s quite cuddly! He represents that soft childlike side of me very well, that chooses embrace over battle. He is also famously known as the Evolution Pokémon with the ability to evolve into a variety of types. This to me symbolizes the adaptability and go-with-the-flow nature of my compassionate side. Personality wise, I often hold a posture of listening and understanding multiple points of view. This default approach to relating to others can sometimes even cloud my sense of self, complicating my decision making. As with all parts of me, Eevee contributes to meeting my needs and must be balanced with the others. He’s that helpful reminder that life doesn’t have to be about the battle. It can be about sharing it with the ones you love.