When I was 11 years old, I went to summer camp for the first-time. This wasn’t your average YMCA “let’s get rid of the kids for the day ”camp but one of those overnight experiences where parents drop their children off in the middle of nowhere for a few weeks, leave them in the care of a bunch of 19-year-olds and hope that their kid will come back to them as better-equipped human beings, or at the very least, alive. Fortunately for my parents, I came back as both. For the next five summers, I’d return home from camp to the ‘burbs as this totally confident and independent young woman – the kind of girl that Beyoncé would love to sing songs about – and try to hang onto that feeling for the rest of the year. That was the hard part.
Here’s some life advice that I gleaned as an expert summer camper: Keep reading »