Page 116 of Every Step She Takes
In the end, I don’t need a medical helicopter to get me back to Santiago. The bus works just fine. Stefano and I say goodbye at the station before he gets on a train that will eventually take him all the way back to Naples, and I get on a bus that will take me all the way to my father’s funeral.
C’est La Vi with Me
HOME ABOUT ME DESTINATIONS BLOG POSTS
Coming Out (and Coming of Age) on the Camino
Sadie Wells
May 30, 2025 213 comments
On the first day of my trek with Beatrix Tours, tour guide and owner Inez Oliveira asked us to share what brought us to the Camino. Because whether we realized it or not, no one does the Camino de Santiago just because they enjoy walking. We were all running from something, or running toward something, or trying to find the time we needed to figure ourselves out.
I didn’t share that first day, but here is my truth: my sexual identity crisis is what called me to the Camino. It never occurred to me that I could be anything but straight until I was thirty-four, though in hindsight, there were clues. My childhood obsession with Amy Jo Johnson as the Pink Ranger. My later obsession with Mischa Barton’s jean skirts onThe O.C.I had my fair share of intense female friendships, and the only boys I ever had crushes on were the ones my friends liked, because I liked bonding with them over it.
When one of my friends in college came out as gay, I remember thinking that meant I couldn’t be gay too, because if I was, I would’ve felt something when she told me. Instead, I felt weirdly numbed by the news. And when my sister told us she’s bi, and my mom took it in stride, I told myself I couldn’t be queer too. Because if I was, I would’ve told someone already. It was like I was waiting for the right sign, waiting for the universe to give me permission to question my sexuality. And in the meantime, I kept dating men, because that was the only path I could imagine for myself.
Even when I started feeling this desperate need to talk about questioning my queerness, I didn’t have the language for it. And I thought I had to have the right words, the perfect label, for my identity to be valid.
So when my sister’s injury meant she couldn’t do the Camino tour, I jumped on the opportunity to escape my real-life responsibilities, to buy myself the time I needed to find the perfect words.
After two weeks and two hundred miles with Oliveira and a group of incredible queer people, I learned two things: there are no perfect words; and my sexuality is a small part of who I am and what I needed to figure out about myself.
I thought the Camino was about exploring my sexuality, but that wasn’t the only thing I’d been ignoring about myself. It wasn’t until I let myself question my queerness that I finally gavemyselfpermission to question everything else. That’s the truly special thing about Beatrix Tours, and Inez Oliveira as a person. She creates a culture of trust, vulnerability, and growth. She fosters a safe, loving community where pilgrims can choose to reflect as much or as little as they need to. And there’s a beautiful power in getting to do that alongside queer family.
So, without further ado, one final list.
Things I Discovered About Myself on the Camino:
That I’m probably a lesbian.
But it’s okay if I don’t have all the answers.
And it’s okay if the answers change over time.
That I need to stop drinking red wine.
That I don’t like seafood (but Iespeciallyhate octopus).
That I cannot make rational decisions on limited sleep.
That I am the kind of person who gets a tattoo.
That I need to stop apologizing for taking up space.
That it’s okay to make mistakes.
That sometimes, the best learning comes from those mistakes.
That I’m on a different timeline than other people.
And that’s okay.
That I’m a giddy fool when I have a crush.
That I’m even worse when I fall in love.
That I want love, even if it doesn’t always have a happy ending.
