The internet is buzzing again. Scroll through YouTube or TikTok, and you’ll find countless clips of players cursing, laughing, or triumphantly fist-pumping their way through Hollow Knight: Silksong. The conversation circles back to one thing: it’s too hard.

I’ve been playing a lot of Silksong lately, and I can’t help but smile at the complaints. Yes, the game is tough. It punishes hesitation, demands precision, heck……sometimes it feels merciless, even petty. But to me, this isn’t a shock. It’s a reminder. A return to the way games used to be.

Back when I was a kid, difficulty wasn’t a talking point—it was simply the air we breathed. On the NES, games like Ninja Gaiden 3 didn’t give you gentle tutorials or generous checkpoints. They gave you three lives, enemies that respawned the moment you turned your back, and bosses that seemed designed to test your patience as much as your reflexes. Failure wasn’t optional—it was inevitable. And yet, we played. We tried again. We learned.

That’s why I find the controversy around Silksong fascinating. Players today often expect games to bend toward accessibility. Most modern titles are designed to guide you gently, to minimize frustration. They want you to see the ending, to feel accomplished without too many scars. But Silksong doesn’t coddle. Like its predecessor, it inherits the older philosophy of design: one that sees difficulty not as a wall, but as a staircase. You climb it one careful step at a time, and every slip only makes the summit sweeter.

Hard games about more than reflexes….they’re about rhythm. As a TikToker said, “every battle is a dance, every enemy your partner”. They teach you to observe patterns, to wait, to try something new when brute force doesn’t work. They demand patience, resilience, and the willingness to be humbled. That first boss who wipes the floor with you isn’t an insult: it’s an invitation. It says: you can do better, come back stronger….git gud!

When you finally do, when you land that perfect dodge, counter, or combo after dozens (or hundreds!!) of failures, there’s a satisfaction no easy victory can replicate….it’s about earning it. That feeling is rare, and it’s why we keep coming back.

For me, Silksong feels like a conversation with my younger self. Back then, frustration would push me to seethe in rage or want hurl a controller across the room. Now, older and perhaps a little wiser, I find the patience to sit with the difficulty or to step away and walk that 50th death off. I take breaks, rethink strategies, and even appreciate the elegance in the way the game tests me. Age hasn’t dulled the challenge—but it has changed the way I respond to it.

Maybe that’s why difficulty in games still matters. It mirrors life. Obstacles aren’t there just to block us, they shape us, help us get good if we dare face them. They remind us that persistence is part of the journey and that growth comes through trial. The victories we remember most are the ones we fought hardest for.

I suspect that’s why we keep coming back to hard games. Not because we like to suffer, but because we like to grow.

What about you? What was your hardest game growing up? How has it shaped the way you play today?