HOW IT ALL STARTED
In May 2023, I completed my trek to Everest Base Camp. Until then, reaching the summit had never felt like a real possibility. But as I crossed paths with climbers on their way up, a quiet thought lingered: What if?
If I were ever to have that chance, I knew I would want to take it while I still had some usable sight — to see the world from the summit of Everest with my own eyes. As my sight and hearing continues to deteriorate, it became clear that if this was something I was going to do, the moment was now.
WHY THIS JOURNEY MATTERS
Since then, I have reached out to people and brands, and the encouragement and support I have received has given me the confidence to take the first steps on this journey.
As I prepare for the Everest summit, my goals are to:
Raise awareness about the spectrum of blindness and deafblindness through my mountaineering journey, and
Promote inclusion in adventure by creating opportunities for deafblind individuals to experience the outdoors with me and advancing research on accessibility haptic wearables.
I believe this journey extends beyond a single summit. It has the potential to challenge assumptions, shift perceptions and open new possibilities for how people experience the world.
Why I want my blindness to be part of this Everest summit story?
During a routine eye test in my late teens, an optician repeatedly reset a machine, assuming it was faulty. It wasn’t — my eyes were. I was referred to a hospital specialist and told I could no longer drive. In that moment, everything shifted. What began as confusion marked the start of my journey into progressive sight loss.
Grief arrived quietly but persistently. At the same time, many things finally made sense — the clumsiness, the missed details, the growing fatigue from trying to keep up. Four years into university, I began attending lectures with a guide dog by my side. I could still make eye contact, read notes and sometimes walk independently, which only added to the confusion — both for me and for others.
I worried about how I was perceived. Did people think I was exaggerating? Pretending? Even I questioned myself when my registration changed from “partially sighted” to “blind”.
I am DeafBlind.. so what? For a long time, I struggled with imposter syndrome. I questioned my own diagnosis, wondered whether a mistake had been made and even felt guilty for accepting support — as if I hadn’t earned it.
I can’t blame individuals for misunderstanding. What I do question is how blindness and deafblindness are often represented — flattened into stereotypes that leave little room for nuance, progression or lived reality. Over time, I found my community. People who shared similar experiences, similar doubts and similar moments of transition. With that came confidence and a sense of belonging.
Many people with conditions like Retinitis Pigmentosa or Usher syndrome spend years adapting quietly, pushing through and delaying help until change becomes unavoidable. I recognise myself in that.
As I work towards an Everest summit attempt, this project is about more than climbing. It is about changing how deafblind people are seen — challenging assumptions, expanding representation and showing the complexity behind a single word or label.
Why Everest? That’s a story for another moment.
For more information about me and my deafblindness, you can read here.
Mountains are climbed with people, not alone. Over the past two years, my journey has been shaped by the relationships I have built — from coaches and mentors to guides and Sherpas — through shared effort, patience and communication. These connections have influenced every stage of my progress. Diary-style reflections from this journey can be followed on my Instagram.