Liv Schrieber’s interest in creating spaces for social connection grew out of her struggle to make friends after moving to New York City in 2018. “I was the loneliest person in the world,” Schrieber says. “I was like, ‘Is something wrong with me?’”
Camp Social bills itself as a place where adult women can connect and make friends. About one in six Americans say they feel lonely or isolated from those around them all or most of the time, and those numbers are disproportionately experienced by adults under 50, according to Pew Research.
Each day, there are optional 7:30 a.m. early riser activities — I participated in a cold plunge into the lake, made less intimidating by the promise of hot chocolate afterwards. Others chose sunrise yoga, an early morning hike, pilates or a guided breathwork meditation.
The fall retreat from Sept. 26-29 promised the same fun of the August camp, but with the fall-inspired option of hayrides, pumpkin painting and an apple cider mixology class.
A silver Airstream van at camp houses a revolving door of curated brand samples throughout the weekend, and campers are also greeted with goodie bags in their cabin upon arrival. There were eight partnerships in total, including brands like La Croix and Bombas.
Returning campers Cassie Rudd, 32, Maddie Martino, 29 and Jocelyn Benson, 31, met at Schrieber’s first camp in 2023. They’re from different states and have planned visits to run races together in California, hike in Utah and celebrate St. Patrick’s day in Chicago since they first met.

EQUINUNK, PA — It’s 7:30 a.m., and I’m standing at the top of a 30-foot waterslide, barefoot, in a swimsuit, wondering why I agreed to this.

Below me: a wind-rippled lake. Behind me: a line of cheering women, all of whom I’ve only just met. On any other Saturday, I’d still be asleep. But I’m at Camp Social — a luxury, all-women adult sleepaway camp in the Poconos — where the tagline is “99% arrive solo, 100% leave as friends.” And in the spirit of field reporting, I’ve promised myself I’ll say yes to everything. So I take a breath, plug my nose, and launch down the slide.

This weekend retreat, founded by influencer Liv Schreiber in 2023, bills itself as a place where women can unplug and create lifelong friendships. For $884, 450 women joined me from Sept. 26-28 for a weekend that promised to include farm-to-table meals, nightly themed parties and swag bags filled with exclusive goodies.

Seeing the camp’s packing list — which included a suggestion for a styled bus outfit — I couldn’t help but worry I would feel like Hannah Horvath showing up for her high-end Montauk swim camp in HBO’s “Girls,” profoundly unprepared for the coastal-cool energy of it all. But when I boarded the bus on Friday morning, I met women who seemed genuinely interested in making friends before we even departed from Manhattan.

Pilates, pool-side popsicles and color war

Upon arrival, my luggage was whisked away to be carried up the hill to my cabin, where I’ll be bunking with seven other girls for the weekend, all in my age group.

I’m greeted by a covered pavilion, dubbed the “La Croix Lounge,” filled with bracelet making supplies, fizzy drinks and branded Camp Social postcards. To my right, a crowd of women led by an Equinox instructor punches to the beat of Kelly Clarkson’s “My Life Would Suck Without You” on a bright green turf lawn.

Just beyond them, a 3D block letter sculpture overlooking Lenape Lake spells out CAMP SOCIAL in shades of pastel pink, orange, red and yellow, flanked by barrels spilling over with magenta and red flowers.

Sleepaway camps for grownups aren’t new. There’s Club Getaway’s all-inclusive Adult Camp and Camp No Counselors, which advertises live bands, a heated pool and “yoga by the lake with a drink in your hand.” For those who like gaming, fantasy, and sci-fi, there’s Epic Nerd Camp, and options like ‘Camp’ Camp for LGBTQ adults. They’re all branded as escapes for your inner child, but without the musty bunk beds and mosquitos.

The magic of Camp Social, however, is that it’s women only.

In line for the charcuterie happy hour on Friday, where a long table is piled with feta and watermelon skewers, an assortment of hummuses and a mountain of cheese cubes, a woman turns to tell me she feels like this is what a real-life Barbie Land would be like. (The theoretical Kens, of course, are the camp staff, many of whom are 20-something-year-old men with charming Australian accents.)

That’s on purpose, Schreiber tells me when we sit down on the lawn on Saturday morning. At 5'4", she’s a blur of energy, pulling women into dance circles at Friday night’s concert, shouting encouragement during Saturday’s Olympics, and speaking to campers as if she’s known them for years.

“You can just breathe and you don't have to worry about makeup or your hair, you can just relax and be you,” Schreiber says. “Female friendship is so pivotal and so important for our soul.”

A second chance at sleepaway camp

Women come from as far as Egypt and Colombia. Some are former summer campers looking to bring that nostalgia into their adulthood, but many are first-time campers seeking to live out their childhood dreams as adults.

“It’s like a second chance in life,” says Lily Wong, 53, who grew up in public housing in Manhattan's Chinatown and didn’t have the chance to attend camp as a kid. “I feel like I’m feeding my inner child.”

I’m no stranger to summer camp. I spent two summers at a sleepaway camp in the tiny town of Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, a place where I first learned to sail, horseback ride and went tubing on Lac La Belle. But entering camp as an eighth grader — which is practically geriatric by camp standards — I always felt like I was clinging to the edges of other people’s conversations and questioning my place in friend groups that formed years earlier.

Beyond the obvious differences — there was no cocktail happy hour or bathroom in the cabin when I was a kid — this felt different. Women of all ages invite passersby to sit with them at meals and join their dance circles during the hoedown throwdown party on Saturday night. Everyone is asked to follow the 10-foot rule: If someone is within 10 feet, wave, smile or ask how they’re doing.

Schreiber also grew up going to summer camp, a place that she says taught her how to express herself and connect with people.

“It's really hard to find pure, belly-laughing happiness that we define as fun as kids, and I don't think our definition of fun should have to shift as we grow older,” Schrieber says.

By Saturday afternoon, it seems like the camp is trying to fit an entire summer’s worth of activities into one jam-packed weekend.

There’s archery, climbing, tie dye, tennis, beach volleyball and line dancing. The arts and crafts barn hosts the supplies to rhinestone claw clips, bead bracelets and collage vision boards. There's Pilates, yoga and hiking for those looking to get active. When I approach the waterfront to stand up paddle board, I spot someone in the distance reading in a canoe, as if they were plopped into a REI advertisement.

“There’s so much to do in the day that the most stress I have is that I'm not going to be able to do everything,” says Baltimore-based camper Kaitlyn Crislip, 26, with a laugh.

Meeting friends IRL in a post-pandemic world

At first glance, the weekend seems like it might be an introvert’s worst nightmare. But the self-described introverts I speak with say the setting pushed them to meet other people.

Val Gearhart, 42, arrived at camp with nervous butterflies in her stomach. As a stay-at-home mom who recently relocated from California to Pennsylvania, she says she’s struggled with loneliness.

“I miss being social. And I think at my age, it's really hard to make friends,” Gearhart says. “I haven't felt this happy in a long time. I've made connections that I hope last a lifetime.”

Perhaps surprisingly, the most popular age range at camp is women in their 40s and older, and throughout the weekend, I notice that the older cabins seem to be the ones that get closest.

“Older women get left out of the conversation,” Schreiber says. “I always say our age limit is 21 plus, and young at heart.”

Schreiber’s passion for creating social connections grew out of her struggle to make friends after moving to New York City in 2018. Camp Social is the outdoorsy sister brand to her main venture, Hot and Social, a company that organizes in-person gatherings for people in their late 20s to 40s looking to build friendships or meet romantic partners in NYC.

Even before the COVID-19 pandemic, roughly half of adults reported experiencing loneliness, but Former U.S. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy in the spring of 2023 declared America’s loneliness epidemic a public health crisis. Loneliness and social isolation can increase risk for premature death as much as smoking 15 cigarettes a day, according to the report.

Creating ‘the influencer experience’

In the age of social media, Schreiber wants camp to be a space where women can meet people. Despite her status as an NYC influencer whose wedding was covered by the New York Times, this weekend doesn’t feel like it’s solely made for content creators, and the crowd is surprisingly diverse. Still, plenty of attendees spend time throughout camp photographing the branded content.

As we walk alongside the lake, a 61-year-old camper stops Schreiber to introduce herself. Her husband had seen a post about Camp Social and suggested she sign up. “You’re really onto something,” she tells Schreiber.

We pick up more campers as we stroll, and she steers us all toward a silver Airstream van that houses a revolving door of curated brand samples. It’s something she calls the influencer experience for the consumer, she explains as she spoons handfuls of branded raspberry cough drops into campers’ hands.

“They’re so good, and they’re organic!“ Schreiber says.

But beneath the aesthetic, the bonds women form here seem to last. Schreiber tells me that this year, 10 campers flew in to be bridesmaids at someone’s wedding. Others have attended engagement parties, baby showers and birthdays.

I’m not sure if I’ve made any lifelong friends yet, but by the end of the weekend I’ve been added to multiple group chats, and my Instagram has been buzzing since, so I guess we’ll see.

The reporter on this story received access to the weekend from Camp Social. USA TODAY maintains editorial control of content.

Rachel Hale’s role covering Youth Mental Health at USA TODAY is supported by a partnership with Pivotal Ventures and Journalism Funding Partners. Funders do not provide editorial input.

Reach her at rhale@usatoday.com and @rachelleighhale on X.

This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: What really happens at an 'adult sleepaway camp'? I went to find out.

Reporting by Rachel Hale, USA TODAY / USA TODAY

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