Z Targeting Is The Perfect Metaphor for My Emotional Exhaustion

When I first played The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, I was fascinated by the concept of Z targeting. Videogames were only just entering the third dimension, and players like myself had to adjust to an entire new perspective. Many design innovations popped up to help us transition to the new control structure, like the omniscient multi directional camera support of Lakitu in Super Mario 64. In Ocarina of Time, Z targeting was Nintendo’s way of teaching us how to maneuver around enemies and interact with NPCs and objects in 3D spaces. With a press of the Z button on the underside of the controller, Link would lock on to a target, allowing the player to strafe, flip, dodge and thrust, all without losing track of their opponent.
Z targeting made an otherwise elusive way of thinking easier for me to grasp. They say that women have poor spatial reasoning, and while I’m not sure how much I believe that (there’s evidence that this enduring stereotype, though rooted in scientific research, is tainted by bias in the testing process), I know it’s something I struggled with myself when I was younger. I found it difficult to think in such a way that encouraged me to pivot myself as the center of the space around me. The Z targeting system, in its ability to guide me through the logistics of negotiating the game’s depth of field, challenged that.
As I’ve grown older and made the effort to improve my ability to conceptualize 3D perspectives in virtual environments, I’ve wondered, bitterly, if women really do have trouble with spatial reasoning, and if so, if it’s possible that our social conditioning plays a part. Few of us are taught to be the center of their own universe, instead learning to be more concerned with the needs of others, particularly men, than we are with our own. Perhaps in the absence of our own sense of self, we lock into something else to focus on, even as it remains stationary, refusing to let go.