This time of year for most of my adolescence, I headed to summer camp. Camp Olympia was, and still is, the most magical place on earth. Camp was a place I thrived, where I felt happiest, safest, most comfortable in my own skin.
Camp was where I most fully learned to embrace who I am, to love who I am, and to be loved for who that person is. Camp was the place where everyone got to be themselves, and everyone got to be loved. Camp was fun and adventurous and busy and pushed you out of your comfort zone in a safe way. It shaped me into who I am today, especially as I progressed from camper to CLP to counselor.
I’m writing this from a plane headed to Asheville, North Carolina, for the bachelorette party of one of my oldest and dearest friends—a girl I met at summer camp at 16 (and, who you may remember, coined the name of this blog!). We’ve never lived in the same city (except for being wranglers together for three months at camp), but our friendship is one of the strongest lifelong friendships I’ve had. Her family is a second family to me.
I can only imagine this weekend in the mountains celebrating her will be a bit like summer camp. Strengthening. Shaping. Refreshing.
Today I am grateful for Camp Olympia.
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