I used to look at my DVD and Blu-ray shelf and feel nothing but clutter anxiety. It looked outdated, heavy, unnecessary in a world where streaming promised everything at the tap of a screen. But lately, the feeling has shifted. Now when I see those cases, I feel something else: nostalgia, and more importantly, a sense of ownership and control.

Streaming promised unlimited access, but what it delivered was fragmentation and uncertainty. Catalogs change constantly, prices keep climbing, and titles vanish without warning. I felt that most during the pandemic, when The Office left Netflix and suddenly the most popular sitcom of a generation was locked behind a different paywall. That was the moment I bought the complete series of The Office and Parks and Rec on DVD. I wanted the certainty that these shows I loved wouldn’t disappear on someone else’s whim.

I’m not alone in that impulse. As Rolling Stone reported, the creator of Love Life on HBO Max started collecting DVDs for the same reason: streaming couldn’t guarantee that his own show would even be available. And locally in Tulsa, News On 6 has covered how Oklahoma record stores are seeing a surge in people buying vinyl, CDs, and even cassette tapes. That tells me the craving for permanence and tangibility isn’t just nostalgia. Something is driving this.

What started for me as an act of frustration has since turned into a hobby. I’ve gotten into collecting special edition Blu-rays like the Criterion Collection and A24’s carefully packaged releases. They come with thoughtful artwork, essays, and restored versions of films that might otherwise disappear. Each one feels like it’s worth holding onto.

I’m not giving up streaming anytime soon, but I’m no longer kidding myself about what it is. Convenience without ownership. Renting without keeping. Which is why I can’t quite let go of my shelf. The truth is simple: physical media is the only way to make sure the stories I love will always be mine.