If you follow me on social media, you’ve probably noticed that I make a lot of jokes about my ex-fiancé walking out on me. One of my favorites to date is a video where I addressed a comment that said, “It’s starting to make sense why the previous guy left. So many issues that are then projected onto her partner.” In the TikTok, I address this criticism while oblivious to the fact that John is sneakily packing his bags and “leaving me” in the background. The silly video ends with me lamenting “not again!” to an empty room. I’ll admit that this brand of humor isn’t for everyone. But I am not everyone and the ability to joke about the darker parts of my life and history has always been my favorite coping skill.
That’s partly why it’s been surprising to see people trying to monitor what is and isn’t appropriate for me to joke about online when it comes to my own life. I don’t believe that everything is fair game for comedy, and I am firmly opposed to any sort of humor that hurts people for the sake of a (most likely racist or homophobic) joke. But when it comes to making fun of myself and my lived experiences, I feel as though I should get to decide what is or isn’t okay. For example, I recently shared an exchange with my fiancé where he jokingly threatened to call off our wedding and--since my ex had already done that two years ago--I replied, “Try to be original for once.”
When that moment happened in real life, we both burst into laughter, and I felt proud of my quick retort. One of the things I have always loved about my current relationship is that we have never had to tiptoe around the fact that I was engaged before and that that person abruptly left. It would feel much worse to me to hear my current fiancé make a joke about calling off our wedding and then have to pretend it didn’t remind me of what already happened. Being direct about what his joke made me think of while simultaneously burning him in the process allows me to take control of the moment and my own narrative. Plus, I got to laugh really hard, which is hands down my number one favorite thing to do.
And yet, when I shared this exchange online and made it clear that I found it to be light-hearted and fun, some people shared their distaste, including one Instagram comment that read, “with him knowing your past trauma, I don’t think it should be brought up, not even jokingly. Major red flag.” Reading that and seeing the subsequent likes on it made me bristle. I felt protective of John and annoyed that a stranger was deciding what is off limits in my personal relationship. I don’t think it is the right choice for everyone to joke about their broken engagement or mental illness or various traumas. Not everyone leads with humor in their life. But, for me, humor has always been my greatest ally.
Joking around has gotten me through my darkest moments and further enhanced my brightest ones. It would feel like it was a betrayal of myself--not to mention a huge, missed opportunity for laughs--to mark certain things “off limits for jokes.” That’s not to say I would find all jokes about my trauma funny. Jokes, like most things, have nuance to them. There is a difference between calling attention to something that already happened in a funny way and being cruel through the guise of “humor.” I also think it matters who is telling the joke. I know my fiancé loves and cares about me, so if he wants to throw out a zinger every now and then by all means! Would I feel the same if my ex made a joke about walking out on me? Probably not—but then again, I wouldn’t know if he did since he cut off all contact. (See what I did there? Ba-dum-ch!)
Perhaps the most useful time I use humor to cope with hardship is when it comes to my OCD. I consistently turn to humor in these moments for two main reasons. The first is that it makes it a lot easier for everyone around me to tolerate my compulsions if we can joke about it. While life would be easier for all of us if my OCD didn’t exist in the first place, it does exist so the least I can do is not make it a somber affair when I ask/force John to wipe down his car seats. It also allows people in my life to not feel like they have to walk on eggshells about this part of me because I’m breaking the ice by clomping around and playfully shouting things like, “The compulsions are winning!” How I talk about my mental health sets the tone for everyone else. The second reason is that my OCD often makes me feel like I am not in control of myself. It can feel like an outside force is taking control of my mind and making me do thing I know to be illogical, annoying and time consuming. Cracking jokes about it helps me feel like I am not completely losing myself to this disorder. You can take away my sanity, but you cannot strip me of my comedic timing!
When I think about what I want in my life, so much of it feels out of my control. I can’t guarantee that I will always be financially stable or in love or fulfilled by my career. But one thing that I can cultivate, no matter what happens, is an ability to laugh through the pain. Humor doesn’t erase our hurt, but it does prove that hurt doesn’t have to be all we feel.
xoxo,
Allison
I agree wholeheartedly. The power of humor should never be understated. I worked as a Psych nurse with folks experiencing homelessness, severe and persistent mental illness and substance addictions (all 3) and the consistent thing I shared with every one of my clients was humor. (And love) Humor breaks the ice. Humor forms a small and immediate bond with a stranger. Humor softens the hard blows of life. Humor lifts the spirits and makes us feel hopeful, if even only for a few moments. At 66 my life has been full of loss, grief, trauma, physical pain, emotional struggles .... yet I have had a WONDERFUL life. For two reasons .... well, more than two, but here are two biggies: HUMOR and love. As long as you keep loving people and laughing at life you are golden, IMHO. Keep laughing, keep smiling, keep loving. Don't let life bust your ass. That is all I have to say.
Also... it’s not anyone else’s business but yours? You cope with loss differently than others do. I think by naming and facing it-- and using humour as a tool to ease into the topic-- we bring light to what pain was there, and can empathise. Just my opinion though. 💖