Critical Play: Bluffing, Judging and Getting Vulnerable

Last night, I played We’re Not Really Strangers with three of my housemates. I asked them to play it with me in the dining room. The environment felt spontaneous. Originally, only one person was supposed to play with me, but 2 other housemates joined in, revealing to me how the game can be such a connector!  We’re Not Really Strangers was created by Koreen Odine is a card-based conversation game designed to deepen emotional connections between players. Though primarily intended for pairs, strangers, friends, or partners, it has a flexible format that can be adapted to small groups. We played the physical card deck version, though there is also a mobile app. We also played the classic version, although there are many more versions, some intended for different settings: first dates, self-love, and family. The original version is intended for all. 

According to the product, it is intended for people aged 15+ who are emotionally curious, and people looking to get closer to someone else through intentional conversation. While the original rules suggest progressing through three levels from light to deep questions and incorporating wildcards that ask players to write notes, perform gestures, or reflect privately, we chose to play more casually. My cards were mixed with all three levels, and we were too lazy to organize, so we decided to just mix the levels, which I think created a fun dynamic with a mix of questions (we could use level 1 when we feel that things were getting too serious to lighten up the mood). We also skipped the wildcards entirely. I noticed that I often skip all the wildcards every time I play, and my housemates agree, since they require additional steps and also don’t encourage the entire group’s buy-in. I wonder if this would be different if played in a pair setting. At first, I read out the rules, which I found to be a little confusing at first, but once we got into the groove, I felt like everyone was a player and equally responsible for shaping the flow of conversation. One thing that I found really funny was that we had Dig Deeper cards, which were supposed to encourage players to go deeper, and one of my friends slapped the card as if he was on Family Fued, and he said it was because he wanted to create a fun and introduce a little competition to our game. 

We came up with a lot of our own mechanics, for instance, certain questions we would encourage each other to “Say it on 3”, which made it really fun. We’d read a question aloud, count to three, and all say our answer at the same time. This mechanic removed hesitation and eliminated the pressure of going first, leveling the social playing field. It encouraged spontaneous honesty and helped us get pass the self-consciousness that sometimes creeps in when others are watching our response. However, I found that ot all questions landed equally. Some of the more serious Level 3 prompts felt too heavy or out of place. One housemate mentioned that they felt “too serious, kind of cringy sometimes,” which I agreed with. It forces people to open up about things that we might not want to share on a random Tuesday night in the dining room. The context of a small group, I feel like, can shift how emotionally safe or performative a question feels. Still, the game did lead to something meaningful. After we wrapped up, one housemate stayed to talk with us about a romantic encounter they had last year, something they hadn’t shared before. We talked for 2 hours after the game wrapped. That conversation didn’t come directly from a card, but the game definitely built that environment and opportunity for vulnerability. 

Playing the game in a group of four made me realize how mechanics designed for pairs can behave differently when multiplied. In our case, it worked because we already knew and trusted each other. But I can see how a group of strangers, or even acquaintances, might struggle with the same setup. The group format can fail to replicate the intimacy that the game aims to create, but can also offering a broader sense of collective bonding when played with the right audience, Compared to other social or conversation-based games, I think We’re Not Really Strangers feels more introspective and less gamified, there are no points and no winners. That can be freeing, but I can see how it can get boring fast because there are so many prompts, and you can’t really play it twice with the same person.  The game’s mechanics (the cards, levels, and wildcard tasks) lead to dynamics shaped by how players respond. The intended purpose for emotional closeness, honesty, and connection can only emerge when players feel safe enough to share. In our case, we already know each other, allowing us to co-create the tone of the game together. There was no one guiding the conversation, but there also wasn’t a need.

From an ethical standpoint, the game raises questions for me on emotional consent and the boundaries of vulnerability. Is it ethical to design a game that gently nudges players into personal disclosure? If this game is intended to be played with strangers, I feel like there are certain prompts I would 100% not feel comfortable sharing or being completely honest. In addition, the usage of cards such as the Dig Deeper cards also encourages people to be vulnerable even if they don’t want to. How safe is it if people want to say no to certain things in this game? I think that vulnerability is powerful, but it needs to be chosen, not coerced. This game reminds me that emotional play is delicate, and there exists a line between emotional connection and discomfort. Our informal version of the game succeeded because we trusted each other and gave ourselves permission to deviate from the rules. We built connections, but in our own terms, which I feel like all players should be able to do. 

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