Camp Wildfire is the one weekend where I stop worrying about looking silly and let myself fully join in. I am usually shy, self-conscious and allergic to making a scene, but there I talk to strangers, dance, wear ridiculous outfits, hand out gifts and throw myself into things I would normally avoid. I feel seen, safe and celebrated, and after four years I have gone from sneering at the whole thing to booking both weekends for 2027.

We spoke every day. Now there’s silence. A quiet end to a friendship, choosing self respect over staying half in and slowly disappearing

I was angrier than I expected to be, and it took time to understand why. Nothing dramatic happened. No blow-up. Just a careful, thoughtful message that sounded balanced and kind, while quietly shifting where responsibility landed. I realised my reaction wasn’t emotional insecurity, it was ethical alarm. I have ADHD and a highly responsive justice system. When responsibility moves toward the person who can cope, rather than the one causing disruption, my body notices first.

I went quiet deliberately. I watched someone I love get hurt by the person meant to love them most, and the truth didn’t arrive as a single moment but as gaps, stories, and details shared too casually to ignore. I knew what was happening. I also knew that if the truth came from me, it would only cause more harm. Silence cost me a friendship, but speaking would have cost even more.

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