At the end of August, I was invited to go on Made Wild, a coaching backpacking trip on South Manitou Island, on a scholarship. I had already learned to say yes to any opportunity to work with Lark’s Song, the nonprofit organization that was leading this five-day backpacking trip, so I went! Usually when people ask me how a weekend trip or other event went I say something like, “Um, yea, it was good?” but, after Made Wild, I was like, “IT WAS AMAZING!” 

The trip was packed with hiking and teamwork and individual coaching which led to increased well-being and personal insight in myself and the others on the trip. Every night ended with “Made Wild Stories,” which were told by participants following an outline of prompts provided by the leaders on the trip. 

On the next to last day, we were sent out for “solo day” where we were not to talk to anyone else for a full six hours. I packed up my sleeping bag and journal, knowing I had my Made Wild Story to write that day, and two huge blisters which would keep me from hiking too far from our camp. I found a spot on the beach of the island we were on with no people on either side of me, laid out my sleeping bag, and took a multi-hour nap in the warmth of the sun. I cannot remember this occasion without smiling and feeling like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, taking in the love of nature. After a few hours of napping, I woke up, answered the prompts, and organized my reflections into my Made Wild Story.

I was especially grateful for the opportunity to go on Made Wild and receive coaching myself as I planned to launch my own coaching business. The trip gave me a chance to have a conversation with my inner saboteur and to nourish my dreams for the future. My hope is to create a space for similar conversations and dreaming for all of my clients.

My Made Wild Story

1. My grandparents told this story a lot about when I was four or five at the hotel pool with them at Disney World, and I was crying when I had to leave because I didn’t know I would be able to come back the next day. I had felt so alive and playful, and at that time, I knew who I was, what I wanted, and I wasn’t afraid to make it known.
2. I’m a little older, probably 12 years old, and I get to go to Christian summer camp for the first time. It is an overnight camp on Lake Erie, and that week I do life together with 10 girls that I think will be my new best friends. We ate together, we worshiped together, we played together, and I belonged in one of the first spaces I was allowed to be absolutely wild in. Lake Erie was the one who actually became a life-long friend that week, and I still think of her and how she sounds on a regular basis.
3. One year at summer camp, I realized I needed to try to stop being gay in order to be accepted, and I got baptized in the lake to symbolize my commitment to be who God made me to be.
4. In my first year of college, I decided to take a risk and love myself — even the gay parts I thought I needed to slice out of me. When my mom began abusing me for that, I found safety in a group of trees that grew along the Maumee River. I went there as often as I could, so I wouldn’t forget that I deserved to be treated better than that.
5. My senior year, I found safety on Megan’s front porch as I ugly-sobbed about how my parents were treating me and about how I didn’t know where to go for Easter. Megan held my spirit then and let me fall apart, and I received love in some hot water and a tea bag prepared especially for me. It was around that time that I noticed that all of the coolest people I know are coaches and decided that I wanted to be more like them by becoming a coach myself.
6. I’m at my grandparents’ house on a lake and my grandfather, one of two family members who has accepted myself and my partner, is dying of brain cancer. He sleeps in his arm chair overlooking the lake as I hold my weeping grandmother and she describes how all of this is happening too soon, and too fast, and feels like too much. I feel a similar grief mixed with the feeling that being there to hold her in that moment is the most important thing I could be doing, and is deeply in line with my strengths and values.
7. I fill up my water bottle as I look at my phone and see that Megan is bringing whiskey and Anthony is bringing cigars, and I laugh out loud. I remember that Lark’s Song is a place I can be myself and talk about taboo topics like sex, period products, and picturing everyone naked.
8. It’s Saturday and lots of us are going to bathe in Lake Michigan. I take a deep breath and take off my shirt. It is the first time I’ve swam shirtless in my life and it feels so normal. A friend acknowledges that she can see how much I’ve grown in loving my body and caring for myself. I remember that queerness saved my life and I am really proud of where I am right now.
9. Being made wild to me is an acknowledgement that the domestication I went through, that taught me to be fearful and critical and tells me I need to make myself smaller, is not me or my child-like wildness. This weekend feels like young childhood and summer camp not only because we’re outside, but because we’re building friendships, sharing, wondering, laughing, playing together, and being open and honest and sincere.
10. The threshold I’m at is inviting me to confront and listen to my inner saboteur, and to trust that those in my life who have shown up for me in the past will continue to show up for me and that they want me to ask them for help. It is inviting me to inhabit fewer spaces where I feel like I have to hide and more spaces where I can be fully myself. I want to continue to invest in my friendships and continue to find new ways to be gentle with myself.