This Friday marks the 30th anniversary of Pokémon.

And this year, I’m turning 30 too.

Unlike so many fans, I can’t say I grew up obsessed with Pokémon. I wasn’t lining up for midnight releases or organizing binders by Pokédex number.

But Pokémon was always there.

It was in my friends’ backpacks. In cafeteria conversations. In trading card binders laid open on playground pavement. It was in the background of my childhood.

And somehow, here we both are. Thirty.

A Fandom That Never Left

When Pokémon Red and Blue launched, they introduced a generation to collecting, trading, and building a team that felt uniquely yours.

Even as someone who wasn’t deeply immersed in it as a kid, I remember the characters that stuck with me.

Torchic.

Psyduck.

Something about them made an impression. They were cute, a little chaotic, and oddly relatable. Even if I wasn’t “in” the fandom, I still carried pieces of it with me.

That’s the thing about Pokémon. You don’t have to be all-in for it to matter.

The Trading Card Craze — Then and Now

In recent years, the Pokémon Trading Card Game has surged back into the mainstream in a massive way.

Empty shelves. Purchase limits. Rare pulls. Graded holographic cards get encased like treasure.

What started as playground trading has evolved into livestream openings, collector markets, and serious hobby culture. The excitement of pulling something rare hasn’t changed; only the scale has.

But here’s where it becomes personal for me.

At 29, going on 30, I started collecting Pokémon cards with my boyfriend, something he’s done his entire life.

And through his eyes, I’ve experienced the fandom in a completely new way.

I’ve learned about set releases and rarity symbols. I’ve felt the tiny rush of adrenaline before flipping the final card in a pack. I’ve understood, maybe for the first time, why this meant so much to so many people growing up.

It isn’t just about value.

It’s about memory.

It’s about ritual.

It’s about sitting on the floor together, opening packs, hoping for something you’ve been chasing, and being just as excited when it’s something unexpected.

Rediscovering Nostalgia

There’s something really special about discovering childhood nostalgia as an adult.

I didn’t grow up deeply rooted in Pokémon. But I grew up around it. And now, stepping into it more intentionally, it feels like I’m meeting a part of my generation I only brushed against before.

Pokémon has this incredible ability to be both constant and evolving (see what I did there?) - New game releases. New regions introduced. New fans join every year.

But the heart stays the same.

The Pokémon themselves are cute, powerful, strange, and emotional.

Stories about growth and stepping into your unique power.

The reminder that even the smallest, most unassuming character can become something extraordinary.

And maybe that’s why turning 30 alongside Pokémon feels meaningful.

We’re both older.

We’ve both evolved.

And somehow, there’s still more to discover.

Still Catching ’Em All

Thirty years in, Pokémon isn’t just surviving in mainstream media — it’s thriving.

It lives in competitive tournaments, fashion collaborations, conventions, and collector communities. It bridges generations in a way few fandoms ever manage to do.

For some, Pokémon is pure childhood nostalgia.

For others, like me, it’s a rediscovery.

A reminder that it’s never too late to step into tall grass.

Never too late to collect something just because it makes you happy.

Never too late to find a new love for something that’s been quietly waiting in the background all along.

Happy 30th anniversary, Pokémon.

And cheers to growing up and evolving — together.