I Was Scared to Go to Queer Camp — Here’s What I Found Instead

I didn’t know how badly I needed Queer Camp until I got there.

Before that weekend, I felt… unsure. Not just about the camp logistics — like whether I’d brought the right shoes or how much bug spray to pack — but about me.

Would people think I wasn’t queer enough? Would they be more outdoorsy? More in-the-know? More confident in their identities? Was there even space for someone like me — sober and still figuring it all out?

I almost didn’t go.

Because the last few years, Pride in the city hasn’t felt like it’s for me. There’s so much beauty in the celebration — but also so much noise and the feeling of extreme overwhelm for me. As someone who no longer drinks, who’s leaned into intentionally staying home and slowing down, the typical Pride events started to feel more like performance than presence. A party that was about drinking and to escape the reality of who I am and less like a celebration of that very same person.

And then there was Camp.

In the woods, no one cared how “queer” you looked. Or if you knew every flag. Or how many partners you had. No one was measuring your queerness against an invisible standard. They were just showing up. Tender, real and unapologetically themselves.

There were late-night conversations by the fire. Nature walks. Breath work sessions. Quiet moments alone in the trees. There was space to cry, to laugh until your stomach hurt, to just be.

What I found wasn’t just a break from the city — it was a break from trying to prove anything.

Queer Camp gave me the version of Pride I didn’t know I was missing: the one rooted in connection, care, and chosen family. It reminded me that belonging doesn’t have to be loud to be real. And that sometimes, the most radical thing you can do is let yourself be fully seen — in all your quiet, soft glory.

If you’ve ever felt like Pride wasn’t built for you — if the noise, the parties, the crowds don’t quite fit the shape of your joy — I want you to know: you’re not alone.

There are other ways to celebrate. Other ways to belong. Sometimes, they’re waiting for you just beyond the trees. 

Invitational Journal Prompt: How can I celebrate Pride in a way that feels true to me?