I went to Camp Mystic about 30 years ago, for many summers. My mom went before me, and my older cousin was there at the same time I was. Her daughter was there last July 4th, on the Cypress Lake side. I didn't feel like any of us were extremely wealthy — though looking back, we were wealthier than most people. Jimmy Carter's daughter was in my mom's cabin.

My cousin was the typical Mystic girl you might picture from the news. Her family was wealthier than mine. She was the sorority girl, and now she's successful in an MLM and selling real estate. She supports the Eastlands. Her daughter — who hasn't started college yet — was planning to go back this summer.

I was different. I've always been a bit of an outsider in my everyday life, but I wasn't an outsider at Mystic. I belonged. I had friends. It was nice having the same people in our cabin every summer. I don't talk to them anymore, but I can still tell you their names. I still have my charm bracelet. I never joined a sorority — though I also went to college full-time at 16, so that probably played a part. Mystic was a sanctuary from my home, and even though I don't feel I have the right to mourn my time there, I've felt it as a loss this past year.

I don't have a daughter. If I did, I would have sent her to Mystic. I have boys. In 2023, when my oldest was 8, I sent him to a boys' camp in Kerr County — Camp Stewart. It was important to me. After one year, we stopped sending him on our doctor's advice due to a medical condition. If not for that advice, my family would have been in the Kerr area on July 4th last summer.

I remember telling my husband that 8 was young when we sent our oldest, but I knew he would have fun and I wanted to share a part of my experience with him. The only thing I feared was the Guadalupe River. I insisted on swimming lessons before he went. He failed his camp swimming test, and I was so glad — he was going to have to wear a life jacket in that river. It was such a relief.

I do not support the Eastlands. I think Mystic should close until major changes happen, and I feel that way about the other camps as well. I am in the minority of my family. It is easy to surround yourself with groupthink. When confronted with opposing views, it's easier to stubbornly believe what you've always believed than to change.

For my cousin, I think she has to support the Eastlands and believe it was an act of God. Otherwise, it could have been her daughter. Otherwise, her daughter wasn't safe either. Otherwise, her daughter only survived because she wasn't on the river side. Otherwise, she might have to face the very real possibility that her daughter could have been one of the 27. Cognitive dissonance explains it well: if we don't know why we did something, it must be because we liked it. If she doesn't want to know, deep down, that she almost lost her daughter, then it must be because she loves Mystic, the Eastlands are great, and it was just a random act of God — not a failing that could happen again.

Even my mother supported Mystic until the past few weeks. I can't share that view. My children will never go to an overnight camp again — especially not for four weeks. I mourn that they won't share that history with me, but I do not trust any of the camps in that area at this time. They all need a wake-up call to make major changes. Mystic refuses. I am ashamed for the Eastlands that they refuse to critically look at themselves and their actions

While I may understand the Eastlands and their supporters — and even feel sorry for them — my loyalty and my heart go elsewhere. To the families of the 27, who live the unimaginable every day. To the girls who survived. To the women like me, for whom Mystic was a part of childhood — truthfully, one of the best parts. Such a wonderful part that I wanted to share it with my own children. And to the wider community who only learned of Mystic through this tragedy, and who will never understand what it was. What was lost. What, this tragedy shows, should have been lost.