Baggage

Every one of us carries stories: heartbreaks, unresolved fights, jealousy, shame, grief, burnout.
That’s human. It’s also volatile tinder in a space like Rogue Rope Camp—where intensity, intimacy, and erotic charge run high.

Here’s the truth:

Whatever you bring in—light or dark—will get amplified.
If it’s wonder, the place will glow.
If it’s unspoken resentment, it can burst into wildfire.

This page is a loving caution. A reminder to pause, scan, and sort your inner luggage before you step onto the field.


  1. Name It

    • Say it out loud (to yourself, a friend, a journal): “I’m still angry at X.”
    • Hidden baggage loves the dark; naming switches on the light.
  2. Tame It

    • Do the pre‑work: therapy session, hard conversation, breathwork, long run—whatever helps you find steadiness.
    • If it can’t be fully solved, at least give it a safe container.
  3. Leave It

    • Some loads are too fresh, too sharp. That doesn’t make you weak—just honest. If the weight feels un‑carry‑able, it might be kinder to sit this camp out (or arrive later, in a different year).

  • Arriving with tension? Name it together first. Decide: Pause it, resolve it, or postpone camp.
  • Love triangles & undefined connections? Get explicit now. Vagueness becomes violence when the energy spikes.
  • Recent break‑ups? If seeing this person tie someone else might rip you apart, love yourself enough to wait.

Camp isn’t therapy. It’s not neutral ground. It’s a magnifier.


This field holds many bodies, many hearts.
Personal storms can swirl into collective weather.

  • Don’t process loudly in public zones. Find a quiet corner or schedule time off‑site.
  • Consent to unload. Ask before dumping heavy feelings on someone who may be tapped out.
  • Use the support web wisely. FWBs, Consent Crew, quiet spaces—they’re resources, not emotional dumpsters.

  • Have I named my current tender spots?
  • Have I had any necessary conversations with partners or ex‑partners?
  • Do I have grounding tools for when emotions spike?
  • If a worst‑case trigger happens, do I have an exit or pause plan?

If you can answer yes—welcome.
If not, pause. Breathe. Decide with care.


Leaving baggage at the door doesn’t mean denying your humanity.
It means stewarding your shadow so it doesn’t take the whole room hostage.

Bring your curiosity. Bring your desire.
Bring your readiness to meet whatever arises.

But heavy, volatile drama?
Kindly—and courageously—leave it outside the gate.

Suitcase left on a threshold, camp lights glowing beyond.