It’s been a while since my last post, and life has been anything but slow! While I’ve had plenty of adventures, a lack of free time and mental bandwidth has kept me from writing. I also continue to grapple with what a blog “should” be. Is it a personal journal, a simple narration of experiences, or does it need a central theme? I lean towards the latter; even if it means blogging less frequently, it pushes me to reflect more deeply on my adventures. With that, this blog post covers my most recent adventure: an ascent of Chimborazo, Ecuador’s highest stratovolcano.
Arrival and Anticipation
Landing in Quito, Ecuador, on June 6th, my only thought was how desperately I wanted to sleep. After a hectic month without a steady bed to call my own and red-eye flights into South America, I felt utterly run down. I realized I’d felt this way for a while. Even so, there were giants in the skyline, and anticipation buzzed inside me. The next day, we would head to La Avenida de los Volcanes, or “The Avenue of the Volcanoes,” for what might just be my biggest adventure to date.
The plan? In one week, my friends and I would attempt to summit Cotopaxi (19,347′) and Chimborazo (20,549′). Could we do it? I really had no idea. Half of me was consumed by self-doubt. Had I truly trained enough? Did I have the necessary experience? What does 20,549′ feel like? Could my body even handle it? All these questions swam through my very tired head. Yet, I also knew I was mentally tough, and for better or worse, I had gotten pretty good at “self-gaslighting” my way through adventures.
“Self-Gaslighting”?
Wait, gaslighting? Yup, that’s right. Usually referred to as a form of abuse, gaslighting is a tool of psychological manipulation, leading someone to question the validity of their own reality. It sounds kind of messed up to say I do that to myself, and maybe it is. However, self-gaslighting has also been my unconventional way to push past my limits and overcome negative self-talk when navigating tough times.
The First Attempt
On June 14th, our group reached high camp at 17,552 feet. One friend and I then pushed for the summit, but we couldn’t make it. Our 2:1 climber-to-guide ratio meant we had to stick together. When my friend’s legs became too weak to continue, we both had to turn back. Of course, safety was the top priority, and turning around was undeniably the correct decision to ensure our well-being, but it still stung. I felt strong. My previous self-doubt had vanished. I knew I could summit, and I wanted it so badly. Leaving Chimborazo knowing I had more to give was a tough blow.
As we descended that morning, our guide offered me a chance to reattempt the summit the following night. I was tempted, but also exhausted and mindful of the cost. Then, both my mom and a friend generously offered to financially contribute, and I quickly realized planning another trip to Ecuador for a second attempt would be far more expensive. Call it “girl math,” but I was practically saving money! With their support, I decided to try again—this time, alone.
On the Mountain: My Self-Gaslighting Tactics
Now here is how I “gaslit” myself up the mountain.
There are moments on a climb when you question everything. “Is this even fun?” I’d wonder. My guide, Juan Carlos, and I would chat here and there, but a language barrier often made real conversation impossible. My anxiety, a constant companion, fixated on my digestion and the heavy food we were eating. Then, there was the worry about not getting enough sleep, and the overarching fear that bad weather could erase all our efforts.
I know myself, and I know a single negative thought can easily spiral out of control. A “we aren’t vibing” becomes “Juan Carlos doesn’t like me, and he is less inclined to get us to the summit.” A mild “I’m having a little indigestion” morphs into “I won’t sleep at all because my stomach hurts.” “I hope the weather isn’t bad” turns into refreshing the weather app every other minute (or even in-reach messaging my mom to check the weather).
While a therapist might have a more clinical term for shutting down these anxious thoughts, “self-gaslighting” felt like it fit my internal dialouge. In these moments, I’d hit back hard: “You paid him to take you up a mountain, not to be your friend” and “You just suck at Spanish.” For my stomach , “You are overly sensitive. Most endurance athletes have to push through to fuel their adventures.” And for the weather ? “Stop wasting your limited data plan pretending to be a weatherman.”
Even if a little harsh, these internal rebuttals were my lifeline. They kept me from spiraling, allowed me to laugh at my own absurdity, and most importantly, helped me stay present.
The Climb: 5 hours with only my own thoughts
The second time at high camp, the vibes were VERY different. The atmosphere matched the solitude I felt inside. What had been a camp filled with people Saturday night was solely Juan Carlos and I on Monday night. No fellow climbers to chat with, no talks of adventure—only the relentless wind. I laid on my sleeping pad, desperately hoping for a few hours of sleep.
At 11 PM, I “awoke,” and it was time to activate my inner gaslighter, paired with a heavy dose of toxic positivity. This wasn’t just about wishing for a good outcome; it was about forcing myself into a mindset where negative thoughts couldn’t take root. I was dancing. I was smiling. I was relishing in the taste of the cold coffee and hardened banana bread. Because I had to. I had to make sure the hope and excitement overshadowed the little voices of exhaustion and anxiety. If I let any negative inner voices grow, there would be no chance of making it up.
As we started, each challenge on the climb became a direct trigger for my self-gaslighting tactics:
- 12:00 AM: We’re walking. First, a sketchy little traverse. Juan Carlos handles it with ease. My anxious mind might scream, “You’re going to slip! You’re not good enough!” But my internal response was firm: “Just breathe. You are literally tied to your guide. You know how to use your equipment. Stop overthinking a simple step.”
- 1:00 AM: We’re walking. My legs are tired, burning with a deep ache. I could have fixated on the pain. Instead, the voice kicked in: “Ignore it. You can still do things when you’re tired. This isn’t unique to you. Every endurance athlete pushes through this.”
- 2:00 AM: It’s realllly windy, whipping snow into our faces, covering the already faint trail. Juan Carlos looks around for the path. The spiral would normally begin: “He’s lost! We’re going to die! This was a mistake!” But I countered: “Your guide has way more experience than you ever will. Trust him. Keep going. Focus on your footsteps, not your fears.”
- 3:00 AM: “Only 300 meters to go,” Juan Carlos smiled. Elation surged, though I was also confused, having anticipated a six-hour summit. When the “Don’t get your hopes up; something could still go wrong” arose, I crushed it: “OMG, we’re going to summit! Get stoked! You earned this!”
- 4:00 AM: Juan Carlos kisses the ground. We’re here. LOL It’s still dark, a stark contrast to my vision of summiting at sunrise, but the victory was undeniable. My self-gaslighting had quieted the doubts and pushed me through.
Summit and Reflection
Missing sunrise was a slight letdown, but an early summit was a non-negotiable given the increased avalanche risk from the storm. If we hand’t sumitted early, he would have had us turn to stay safe on the descent.
- 6:00 AM: We were back at high camp. The sun was coming up. I had done the damn thing.
Standing on the summit of Chimborazo, I felt proud – not just for reaching the top, but for quieting the storm within my own mind. This journey proved to me again that I can override negative thoughts and conquer seemingly insurmountable feats. Yet, I also recognize another critical truth: “self-gaslighting,” can lead to a profound lack of self-trust and intuition. While it served a vital purpose on the mountain, this approach isn’t sustainable for everyday life. I often find myself struggling to know what I truly want—what I enjoy doing in my free time, or even what foods I’m craving. In gaslighting my anxieties, I’ve inadvertently gaslit my true thoughts and feelings. With that, in my next posts, I will add to this narrative and discuss where I am now and how I am seeking a more balanced and compassionate way to relate to my inner voice.
Creating Space 
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