Highway Meltdown

It doesn't get more dramatic than having an absolute meltdown on the side of the road when going on a pilgrimage. There I was, three days in and sobbing my heart and soul out. I was about a 30-45 mins walking distance from the end of day 3. The pain from my hikers rash was unbearable, the general fatigue from the sheer amount of uphill walking that day and the underlying wound surfacing were pushing me to my edge. I decided to stop because I knew my body and mind were reaching their absolute limit. I waddled my way into a bar just on the outskirts of Bruma. As soon as I got in, an elderly lady bee-lined for me took one look at me and said, "I'm going to go and get you some biscuits. Sit down, let me get you a stool to rest your feet, relax. What drink can I get you? Once you've had a drink and food, you'll be ready to go again but until then just rest." Honestly, those few lines brought me to tears, and until then, I hadn't known why but I was about to.

After having a long internal debate about whether to get a taxi for the last few kilometers, I finally calmed myself down. I realised that I had replenished myself enough with food, drink, and motivational words from the bar lady to keep going. So I got up and began slowly walking. I had a question so present in my mind, "why did I want to cry when that lady had said those things to me?" and then it hit me. The older lady in Pontedeume coddled me and called me a baby. The older lady in Betanzos had spent a considerable amount of time outweighing the pros and cons of having a rest day with me. The older lady in the bar knew what I needed in a moment where I was vulnerable. These older women had shown me so much compassion, empathy, and love. They had shown me that without knowing me and, more importantly, without expecting anything in return. I was overwhelmed, but mostly I felt a deep sense of grief. The grief of my inner child who, when needing compassion, empathy, warmth, and love, was met with harshness, jealousy, spite, and discipline. I also…

"…cried for the little girl whose freedom was stifled. I cried for the little girl whose sense of adventure was extinguished. I cried for the little girl who felt trapped in a cage…."?

Whether in romantic or family relationships, I have experienced the above. Doing something like the Camino suddenly felt like such a rebellious act. It felt like I was on a mission to reclaim my freedom after it had been taken away by numerous people in my life. I also realised that I could have achieved everything I did without some of the wounds passed on. When I felt at my absolute worst, physically, emotionally, and mentally, countless women encouraged me not with hard words but soft ones. Those soft words made me want to keep walking. I felt a tsunami of pain for all the hard words I had been thrown at me in my childhood. Lastly, an insight I didn't realise until my therapist mentioned it upon my return was a journey of acceptance. Everyone I came across, accepted me wherever I went on my walk. They didn't know who Authentic Alex was, they didn't want or need to know. They didn't ask anything of me or need anything from me. It was honestly liberating, light, a longing I didn't know was there. I could just be Alex something that I've often not found.

I had long heard that the Camino was a spiritual experience. A tiny part of me thought, it's such a short walk compared to the month-long Camino Frances (the French way), there's no way I'll have some profound revelation. But how wrong was I? First, it was a reminder of never forgoing my intuition because it had only been a week before the trip that I had felt the need to go and travel. I knew that something internally had been brewing for a while, but I didn't quite know what. It was also a reminder that a lot of my healing has happened while traveling. It provides me with the space and clarity to listen to what's present within me that needs to be heard and acted on. And on that note, I had decided to end a relationship I'd only just begun because I knew in my heart of hearts that my freedom would be stifled again. This time I wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of it.?

Once I arrived, I booked in for a much-needed full-body massage that evening and the following morning I left Bruma renewed. I continued my walk towards Sigüreiro, and let me tell you, the struggle was real. I debated a lot about whether to continue for the last two days. To complete the Camino de Santiago, you have to have walked 100km, and I had already done that. My hikers rash was getting worse by the day, and when I stopped at the pharmacy, their reaction at the look of it made me realise it was a lot worse than I thought. I remember having a funny situation when I checked in with family and sent them a photo of my swollen and rash-covered leg. My aunt in Berlin texted me, "please don't walk." In contrast, my uncle in Colombia, within the same hour, texted me saying, "this seems to be the essence of sacrifice during your pilgrimage." But I continued walking because I'd already gotten through the worse. On day 4, I was really hobbling, and the family had stopped giving me ibuprofen. Lucia, the nurse I had walked with from the start, had done her knee early on, so we spent most of day 4 hobbling along with her partner.

Day 5 was the most tempting to not do, but again, I pushed as much as I've ever pushed myself mentally. I almost didn't leave and only managed to get myself moving by 11:30, which was a very late start to my usual 8:30/9:00 starts. My Camino family was well on their way to Santiago and stopped halfway to wait for me so we could finish together, something I was deeply touched by. There was a real sense of camaraderie, and 'we leave no soldier behind'. Eventually, we arrived in Santiago de Compostela at exactly 3:33pm. It was emotional, to say the least, and after getting my walk approved in the Camino office, I headed to my suite with my name and a bathtub at the foot of the bed. After relaxing for a while and getting some much-needed food in me, I had a strong impulse that surprised me. I wanted to go to the evening pilgrim's mass in the Santiago de Compostela church. As I sat there listening I reflected on my relationship with religion, there were things I enjoyed listening to the priest talk about and others that made my stomach turn. Then out of the corner of my eye, in what was a very packed church, I curiously noticed a queue. I went to take a peek and noticed it was a queue to go to confession.

Having been raised a catholic, I'd actually never gone to confession. I thought, why not. So I queued and, in the meantime, watched by far the most fantastic lighting of a giant, and I mean giant frankincense holder get swung meters over people's heads. When it was eventually my turn, I sat in front of the priest and comically said, "It's been a while since I was in church, and I've never confessed, so how does this work?" He stared at me blankly, to which I gathered I should probably just start speaking, so I did. I talked about what had come up in my highway meltdown and how much pain and hurt I felt. How much I wanted to let go of a lot of the heaviness. He nodded in silence, much as my therapist does. When eventually he opened his mouth, he said something to me that really brought tit all home for me. So it's the words I will leave you with on the last Camino instalment.

"The Camino of Santiago is a representation of life. We are all walking the same path. Sometimes we walk alone, other times we walk together. We must not judge who walks faster or further. We must have empathy and love towards each other as we walk our own path."

With love and care,

#AuthenticAlex

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Hi there, I'm Alex. If we haven't met before, nice to meet you, and thank you for taking the time to read my newsletter. If you enjoyed it, you can hit subscribe to be notified and if you liked it, feel free to like, share it with someone or add a comment. If you want to see some of my doodles and spoken word poetry, you can find me on?Instagram, or you can also sign up for my?Authentic Alex newsletter. I also just launched a new biz where?you can find out how you can journey with me.

About Alex:?At the age of 24 Alex found herself employed as the Head of Training and Development for a Foreign Exchange Company in The City. After experiencing her very own quarter-life crisis, she decided to leave the corporate world and create her own definition of success. On the day she left that job she wrote a post that went viral on LinkedIn.

Since then she’s been named LinkedIn Top Voice UK twice for her mental health and personal growth content and has become an official LinkedIn Learning Instructor. She's also the co-founder of #LinkedInLocal, a global movement creating communities in over 100 countries and 1,000 cities.

She’s best known for blogging under the hashtag #AuthenticAlex where she smashes one stigma at a time and writes about her therapy journey with the aim of inspiring others to transform their traumas into triumphs.

She now helps businesses grow their presence, find their sense of purpose, awaken their creativity and tell their stories. You can find out more about her?here.