There’s Beauty in the Breaking

When I set out to write this book, I knew it would become a huge undertaking, but I didn’t realize that it would break me.

I’ve used writing as a therapeutic and creative outlet since I was a small child, so it's a tool that I am both comfortable with and familiar with. I have shared some stories, but not all. Everything I have ever written has been entirely mine until I pushed it out into the world.

I was lucky that I had a sizeable chunk of the content already created. However, I never wrote any of this material with a book in mind. I pulled from blog entries, social media posts, and private journals. Much of what I compiled needed to be edited and rewritten because, in print, things hit much differently than if you’re reading from a blog. I had to go back and write eloquent descriptions of what I may have shared with images or videos. It was extremely important to me that the editing did not embellish the truth or change the content.

Initially, the hardest part was ensuring accuracy and authenticity. After looking into venues for publishing, I went the indie author route and chose to self-publish. As I dove into the pros and cons of soliciting a major publishing house, the biggest red flag for me was the fact that many first-time authors lose complete control of their book. Unless you have an immense following or are already a celebrity, you start with very little bargaining power.

When you sign a contract with a traditional publisher, you are often required (especially as a first-time author) to give up creative control. The publisher can determine how the book will look, where it will be distributed, and how it will be marketed. They can also edit the contents of the book. If they want to have a ghostwriter add additional chapters or change the content to make it more palatable, they can do so if they have creative control.

Absolutely not.

The idea that they could rewrite our truth made me cringe, and if I’m being honest, it almost made me quit before this adventure began.

When I share our stories, I always ensure I’ve written them as they truly occurred, from my perspective. In fact, I often run them through Rob and Cam filters to ensure that my perception is wholly accurate.

The possibility of someone altering our stories to make them more palatable for people who might be uncomfortable with the realization that they’re part of the problem?

No.  Just NO.

So, I began researching the path of self-publishing. There are so many options available these days that it was overwhelming to start. I already knew my audience and the purpose of this book. I’ve always had the same goal in mind when sharing our stories: if our Adventures in Camelot can help one parent or caregiver feel less alone, less like they’re drowning, or if they can help them see that there is hope, joy, and beauty ahead of them, then it’s worth the anxiety and vulnerability that come with sharing.

Life here in Camelot isn’t always relatable to everyone, but by sharing tales that are factual and authentic, I’m letting you inside our world.

I share our stories to promote understanding and acceptance.

I share them because I truly believe that stories are how we foster community, and how culture is created and sustained.

Truth be told, I’m trying to manifest the world that I dream of for Cam, starting with sharing our stories with each of you. Every tale takes on a life of its own after it leaves the safety of my heart, but if it helps to foster a sense of belonging for families like ours, that is all that matters. Where it goes and what other people think is not my concern. When a story leaves its writer, it is no longer theirs. Soon, my stories will no longer be mine.

There are so few places where our family is accepted and embraced without judgment. We simply don’t feel a sense of belonging in many spaces where there isn’t a place at the table for us. Extracurriculars and sports have been an area where we continue to try to permeate, because these spaces are vitally important to fostering social connection among kids. However, it’s not usually the kids who have made us uncomfortable or told us that we don’t belong.

It’s almost always the adults.

Luckily, I don’t think that Cam has felt the same hurt that we have as parents. Still, we continue to advocate for spaces where all people can feel a sense of belonging. In Camelot, we thrive because we have created a reality for ourselves that has taken 11 years to come to fruition. This is not true for everyone, and that is why we continue to facilitate change. The easiest way for me to do this is by sharing our Adventures.

When a story needs to come out, I simply sit down and write. It’s not even a choice at times — I feel as if I might burst wide open if I hold the story in. If it’s a topic that I’m emotionally connected to, there’s a whole lot of emotional processing that happens when I sit down at the keyboard. The eventual catharsis is like magic, but it can also leave me emotionally drained. I remember the first time I realized that this is how some artists and creative folks live their entire lives. Back in 2003, I was listening to Brand New’s newly released album, Deja Entendu, and when the song "Guernica" came up, I stopped breathing when I heard the line, "Is this the way a toy feels when its batteries run dry?"

Wow. Yeah. That’s exactly how it feels. I don’t know how people carry the weight of that as their full-time work, but I admire the hell out of them for doing so. For me, an emotional hangover is almost always the result, leaving me feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck and forcing me to go into radical self preservation mode.

Years later, while reading Brené Brown’s book, Dare to Lead, I paused (for several days) to reflect on one sentence:

"We are born makers. We move what we’re learning from our heads to our hearts through our hands."

That resonated so deeply for me. In fact, I often feel like a seed that must burst open in order for the words to emerge and for growth to occur! Sometimes that burst feels like I’m coming apart at the seams, and some stories break you when you put them to paper.

I am quite averse to performative actions, so I make sure that the intention behind my writing comes from a good place.

Love?
Education?
Speaking truth to bullshit?

All three can be, and often are, true. Writing is tricky; I can craft something and realize that it could be damaging if read from the wrong perspective. And if so, then I delete it. Writing these stories still helps me process life as it unfolds around me, even when it’s for my eyes only.

It doesn’t mean that I don’t write things that offend people or cause discomfort. There are deeply personal stories I will share one day that may make some folks very uncomfortable, but as Anne Lamott once wrote, "You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better."

Those stories are for another time and place.

This book was my Adventure. Reliving the moments that were selected for this project was like repeatedly revisiting the trauma from a time when I truly felt adrift, where there was a significant amount of hurt still hiding in the past. Writing this book felt like breaking down and then rebuilding myself into something entirely new—somehow stronger and wiser.

Recently, I told a friend that I felt like a piece of Kintsugi pottery.

“Kintsugi (golden joinery) is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum… Not only is there no attempt to hide the damage, but the repair is literally illuminated… This poignancy or aesthetic of existence has been known in Japan as mono no aware, a compassionate sensitivity, or perhaps identification with, [things] outside oneself.”
- Christy Bartlett, Flickwerk: The Aesthetics of Mended Japanese Ceramics

There is great beauty in breaking.
But as far as I've experienced it, it’s only fully realized once you’re on the other side.

I’ve been hyper-focused on ensuring Cameron’s progress and growth for the last decade. I’ve poured so much energy and love into ensuring his path was being paved with him at the helm that I hadn’t truly noticed my own growth and progress. In reliving these adventures, I could finally see how all the blood, sweat, and tears that I had put into Cameron becoming the best possible version of himself led me to becoming mine.

Welcome to our Adventures in Camelot.