Prompt: Are you being curious—or are you gaslighting yourself?
Pen & Mend Journal Prompt (No. 69) On Asking Questions and Discerning the Difference Between Curiosity (Exploration) vs. Gaslighting (Erasure)
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A Gentle Note Before We Begin
This reflection discusses gaslighting, a form of emotional abuse and manipulation. Please keep in mind that I am not a mental health expert. If you think you might be in an abusive situation, consider reaching out to a trusted mental health professional or visiting themendproject.com, which offers education and resources for those navigating emotional and psychological abuse. If this topic feels tender or potentially triggering for you, please read with care. You’re always welcome to take a break, skip this piece, or return to it when you’re ready.
We live in the house our thoughts build.
Brick by brick, belief by belief, our thoughts construct the inner world in which we live. Are our thoughts building us a sanctuary? Maybe even a greenhouse in which we grow and flourish? Or do they seem to be constructing a cage or prison in which we feel trapped? Do we feel calm, at peace, and at home within ourselves? Or do we often feel confused or chaotic?
When we become aware of our inner architecture, we become free to build, rebuild, renovate, tear down walls that no longer serve us, clear out the gunk-like mildew or debris, open windows, and let light pour in.
Journaling—a sanctuary in its own right—can help us with this inner work of “construction,” creating and caring for that inner sanctuary within us.1 Our journals offer us a place where we can be fully honest, safely explore, find our voice, and become more wholly ourselves. Joan Didion offered these words that resonate with so many of us: “I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.” While on the Alchemy Tour, Suleika Jaouad spoke about journaling as both a hiding and a finding. Both women capture the beauty of what writing can do for us—we can find safety and refuge, and we can find ourselves.
But what happens when we start editing ourselves before the ink even dries?
Sometimes, our thoughts might feel tangled and hard to follow. Sometimes, they might appear like invasive weeds, choking out the life-giving thoughts and making it hard to flourish. Sometimes, what emerges on the page might feel like part truth or part doubt, flooding us with foggy uncertainty. As we journal to find ourselves, know what we think, make sense of our experiences, and even heal, we might question our own experiences or emotions at times.
Sometimes, without realizing it, we might gaslight ourselves.
The line between honest reflection and self-doubt can be thin. Sometimes, what feels like introspection or curious question-asking might actually be self-gaslighting in disguise.
“The first step in gaslighting is erasing one's self-assurance.”
—author unknown2
What if you’ve been subtly, unknowingly gaslighting yourself?
Before we can begin to answer this question and notice how gaslighting might show up internally or on the page, it helps to have a clear understanding of what it is. Gaslighting is a term that’s become more commonly used in cultural conversations, which is good in terms of raising awareness, but also means the term sometimes gets misapplied or misunderstood. Psychiatrist and author Dr. Alison Cook offers this helpful explanation:
“Gaslighting is a form of psychological abuse in which your reality or experience is systematically and intentionally invalidated. It's when a person or group questions your experience or your perception of reality in order to keep their power. In other words, they're not questioning your experience in order to help you. They are questioning your experience of reality because they want to stay in control or in power over you. Their goal is not to help; it's to make you feel crazy, weak, or dependent.
The impact of gaslighting is that you start to doubt yourself, question your own experience, and ultimately question your own sanity.”3
Sometimes the people around us—intentionally or not—make us question what we lived through. They rewrite events, downplay our pain, or even deny what happened. This can be deeply confusing. Crazy-making, even. Over time, their voices get tangled up with our own, and we begin to carry that confusion inside. The effects of gaslighting can show up in the way we narrate our lives, the way we soften or bend our reality, and the way we start to shrink or dismiss our pain.
Self-gaslighting happens when we question or dismiss our own thoughts, emotions, and experiences because of messages we’ve internalized, often from others who denied, minimized, or invalidated us.
Do you ever question your memory, perception, or feelings as you journal? Do you ever doubt yourself or ask yourself questions like: Was it really that bad? Am I just too sensitive? Am I overreacting? What if I’m remembering it wrong? These questions may sound reasonable at first, but they can slowly erode our trust in ourselves.
When we ask, Did it really happen the way I remember? Is this even worth feeling upset about? Am I blowing this out of proportion? Do I really have the right to feel this way? We start to warp and silence ourselves. In these moments, we can choose to pause, notice, and ask instead: What if my feelings are valid? What if my memory is correct? What if I can believe myself?
If any of these questions sound familiar, you’re not alone. Self-gaslighting can be something we inherit or quietly learn over time—a survival strategy we use to make sense of pain or stay connected to people who couldn’t see or accept us fully. It might even have helped us cope, but over time, it can keep us from healing, trusting ourselves, and living with wholeness. Instead of finding ourselves on the page, we start to erase ourselves.
Realizing you’ve been gaslit—even unintentionally by the voice inside your own head—can feel disorienting or even scary. But this moment of awareness can be the beginning of something new and hopeful. It can offer a powerful and courageous step toward healing. Many people have walked this path and slowly, gently found their way back to themselves, reclaiming their story and voice and rebuilding trust in themselves and their intuition.4 You can, too.
So, what if you could begin to untangle all of this? What if, instead of doubting or questioning your experiences, you started to believe yourself, trust that what you feel is real, and know that what happened matters? What if you could move from constant self-questioning into something steadier, more rooted in truth and compassion? What if naming the manipulation—not to carry shame, but to bring it into the light—could begin to set you free from the ways it still lingers and limits you?
Your journal can be a place where this work begins. A place to practice listening and noticing without judgment. A place to speak honestly, even if your hand shakes while you write. A place to ask questions that lead to expansion, not erasure. A place to build something that is true and whole and yours.
If you’re now asking questions about the questions you’re asking, I hope this next section helps you with your discernment.
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