Jane Ferguson
I Didn’t Plan to Walk the Camino This Soon
This year, I’ll be embarking on the Camino de Santiago on my 28th birthday.
But this wasn’t the plan.
I first came across the Camino last year, when my dog, Beef, was diagnosed with cancer. At the time, it became something I tucked away as a future goal–something I wanted to accomplish by my 30th birthday.
It felt distant. Symbolic. Like something I’d do “when the time was right.”
I didn’t expect that time to come so quickly.
2025 Changed Everything
2025 was the hardest year of my life.
My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent a double mastectomy. Thankfully, she’s now in remission–but watching someone you love go through that changes you.
At the same time, I was going through something else that completely broke me.
My dog, Beef.
Losing Beef
Beef was only in my life for a year and a half. He was just three years old.
But he was mine.
And that matters in a different way.
When I adopted him, I had just left my traditional job to pursue real estate. My life felt uncertain, but Beef gave me something I hadn’t felt in a long time–purpose.
Starting in December 2024, he began having skin issues that lasted for months. Then in the summer, I was told he had cancer. Two weeks later, I was told he didn’t–that I had a healthy dog.
It was a rollercoaster I didn’t understand.
Then, the first week of November, everything changed.
He started limping. He became wobbly.
- First vet visit: nothing
- Emergency vet: neck injury
- Neurologist: answers… but not the ones I wanted
The next day, I had to make the impossible decision to put him down.
He was ultimately diagnosed with a severe inflammatory disease that was attacking his brain.
There was nothing I could do.
Making that decision was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.
Grief, Purpose, and Feeling Lost
I’ve always struggled with grief–especially when it comes to losing animals.
But this was different.
Beef was my very first pet that was fully mine. I made every decision, paid every bill (and there were A LOT). I felt every moment. And when he left, it him me in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
After he passed, I felt completely drained–emotionally and financially.
And honestly?
I felt like I lost my purpose in life… again.
The Bigger Truth: I Feel Stuck
This is the part I don’t always say out loud.
I’ve always struggled with passion–especially when it comes to my career.
I was extremely passionate about athletic training… until life happened. Grad school stripped that passion away from me in ways I’m still unpacking.
I moved back to Michigan–something I swore I’d never do.
Since then, I’ve:
- Become a realtor (which I truly enjoy, but don’t feel deeply passionate about)
- Built a travel business
- Worked in various athletic training settings
- Worked in serving and bartending
And still… I feel stuck.
Like I’m floating.
Like I don’t know what the rest of my life is supposed to look like.
So… Why the Camino?
After Beef passed, I made the decision:
I’m going. And I’m going soon.
Not because I think walking 170 miles from Portugal to Spain will magically fix my life.
But because I need space.
Space think. Space to feel. Space to just exist without constantly distracting myself.
The Camino is simple in theory:
- Walk
- Eat
- Sleep
- Repeat
And I think that’s exactly what I need.
My Relationship With My Faith (Or Lack Of It)
The Camino is traditionally a religious pilgrimage.
And I’ll be honest–that’s not why I’m going.
I’ve struggled with faith since I was 12 years old. I don’t believe in God, but I do believe there’s something more than just our physical, earth-side existence.
I consider myself spiritual… just not religious.
And if I’m going to be completely honest, I sometimes feel guilty about that.
So while I’m not walking the Camino for religious reasons, I’m also not closing myself off to anything.
I’m open.
To experiences.
To conversations.
To maybe having my mind changed.
Why I’m Starting on My Birthday
I’ve never really been someone who makes a huge deal about my birthday.
But this year feels different.
I wanted to start 28 with something that actually means something.
Not a party. Not a dinner.
But a challenge.
A reset.
A chance to step into a new year of my life with intention.
Clarity.
Growth.
And honestly… good food along the way.
What I’m Hoping to Find
I don’t expect the Camino to hand me all the answers.
But I do hope it gives me:
- Time to process my grief
- A deeper understanding of myself
- Clarity on what I actually love
- Insight into what a fulfilling career could look like for me
I know I have a tendency to avoid my emotions.
To stay busy.
To distract myself.
To keep everyone else okay instead of sitting with how I feel.
And that’s the part that scares me the most about this journey.
Because out there… I won’t be able to avoid it.
A Journey of Rediscovery
At the end of the day, this isn’t just a trip.
It’s a reset.
A chance to reconnect with myself in a way I haven’t in years.
I’m nervous.
I’m skeptical.
I’m hopeful.
And I’m ready to see what happens when I finally slow down long enough to listen to my own thoughts.
Follow Along My Camino Journey
I’ll be documenting my journey walking the Portuguese Camino from Portugal to Spain–sharing the real, unfiltered experience along the way.
If you’ve ever felt stuck, lost, or like you’re searching for something more… this might be fore you to.
Final Thoughts
If I’m being honest, I don’t really know who I’ll be when I finish.
And that’s kind of the point.
I’m not walking the Camino because I have it all figured out. I’m walking it because I don’t.
Because I’m grieving.
Because I feel lost.
Because I want more out of life than just going through the motions.
This isn’t about “finding myself” in some cliche, picture-perfect way.
It’s about giving myself the time and space to actually listen–to my thoughts, my emotions, and maybe even the parts of myself I’ve been avoiding for a long time.
I know there will be hard days.
Days where I’m exhausted.
Days where I miss Beef more than I can handle.
Days where I question why I even decided to do this.
Conversations with strangers who don’t feel like strangers. Quiet mornings walking through places I’ve never been. Small moments where I feel just a little bit more like myself again.
I’m not expecting this journey to fix everything.
But if I can come out of it with even a little more clarity, a little more peace, and a better understanding of what I want my life to look like… that’s enough.
So here’s to 28.
To starting messy.
To doing something hard.
To feeling everything–even the parts that scare me.
And to believing that maybe, just maybe, there’s something on the other side of all of this that’s meant for me.
