When I saw the post on The Armoury announcing that a space had opened up at Camp Spooky 2026, I knew I had to step up.
When tickets for the event were first released, I told myself I would try next year. My wee hummingbird heart is not built for racing to the checkout finish line. I needed time to build that muscle and save up some pennies. The event sold out, and I went on with life, not letting the seed of disappointment grow roots. There is always next year, I kept telling myself.
Then, a space became available.
Gabby, the founder of Main Character Club and The Armoury – an online community for women in their Main Character era – uploaded a post to let us know there was a space going. And I had a fuck it moment. I stepped forward.
I shooed away questions like, "Can I justify the cost?" and "Will I get the time off?" and paid the deposit. I was going to an adult spooky camp in my favourite month of the year, goddamnit. Nothing was going to stop me.
And then I lost my job.
Surely I had to back out?
I began to do the maths. Panic. Do more maths. Let the Main Character in me have her say. Wrote to my journal. Looked at the wreckage of my recently imploded life – let's just say losing my job was only the beginning – and I knew there was only one option.
I was going.
The day came, and I hopped on a train to Edinburgh to meet 40+ strangers, all getting on a coach to The Afterlife (well, Comrie Croft).
A whole new batch of worries buzzed through my mind and nervous system. What if nobody liked me? What if I said something stupid on day one and was 'that girl' for the rest of the trip? What if everyone was cooler than me in every way?
And, of course, every last second thought was washed away by a wave of hellos, hugs and "It's so lovely to meet you in person!"
Amongst all the calculations and wondering if I was cool enough, I hadn't made space to imagine that those three days would change my life. And they did.
I could spend paragraphs detailing what we did, how incredibly everything was organised and delivered, and the amazing attention to detail that brought me to the conclusion that this trip was worth every penny. I'd pay it again in a heartbeat. Job or no job.
But the truth is, I don't want to spoil anything for anyone who didn't make it this time but will next year.
I am going to tell you how I felt, though, because it's a feeling that, thankfully, I haven't been able to shake since we climbed back on the coach to come home.
I arrived at camp that first day having left a life that was in tatters. My job was gone, my oldest friendship too, my marriage had ended, and I'd gone for a dreamy job that I didn't get. All in the space of ten days.
A month later, I was standing in a gorgeous courtyard, shuffling with my case as I prepared to stand with my group, just hoping I could hold myself together.
The next three days of spooky activities, connection, learning new things, digging deep, sleeping well, eating some of the best food I've had in ages, giggling, listening, singing, crying, dancing, talking, writing, and showing up just as I am and being accepted for it did more than begin to piece me back together. It empowered me beyond what I thought was possible so early into this season of huge life upheaval.
Look how happy I am.
It's been just shy of a month since camp, and I still can't shake just how cool, brilliant, affirming and empowering it all was.
Thankfully, I've got 40-some new friends in a group chat to share those memories with.
My phone just lit up. I wonder if it's a ghostie messaging from the afterlife?