I want you to Believe this too. I really do.

My school had a literary magazine and I was all like "Let's write things for it!"...so I did. I thought I'd force all of you to read what I wrote for it. The subject thing I chose to write for is called a "This I believe" Essay. It's pretty much an essay slash story about what I believe in and why. Now don't let that turn you off from reading it! Sure sure. I did it in school, but a lot of my best work has been from school. You might learn something about me you didn't know, and isn't that the point of this whole thing?

Go on! Read it! I double dog dare ya! (*everyone gasps*). I said it. I said it!

This I Believe: In Laughter

As a storyteller I know there is no story that is utterly and completely true. I embellish to make my story more captivating or more entertaining. My imagination allows this to happen, and it is what I hold most dear. While at times it can make me anxious and fearful, it still defines who I am.

I once had a dream where I was being followed by a blue alien named “The Blue Crystal” who could transform itself into anything it wanted. At one point in the dream, the alien’s face was no more than three inches away from mine. I could see into its icky, extraterrestrial, black eyes. I woke up in a cold sweat. For months I refused to look at the spot in my neighborhood where, in my dream, I first laid eyes on the disturbing creature. The memory of his scrawny, disproportionate body could so easily return to my mind by just the sight of that spot. To save corrupting my imagination yet again, I would shield my eyes as we drove past.

It's unbelievable how much emotional turmoil that dream put me through. But now, I tell this story with a comedic twist. As I tell this story to my eager listeners, I act out many of the scenes I have described, and as a result my audience begins to laugh. The pride that rushes over my mind and soul when someone is losing their breath at the words I have spoken is the greatest feeling imaginable, and for that moment my fear is gone. Actually, that fear is gone forever. No longer do I hide my face at that frightening spot in my neighborhood.  Instead, I embrace it and point it out to people as we drive by saying “That’s where I first saw that stupid Blue Crystal!” And they laugh and laugh, and I laugh too, realizing that the terrifying things my imagination uses to scare me can become stories that help others find delight.

Many of my experiences in life range from fear to awkwardness, even to embarrassment beyond belief. For me to move on from the harmful inner-thoughts I create in these moments of emotional turmoil, I must relay my feelings in an upbeat form creating ecstasy and happiness out of my pain and suffering. To me this is the most important way for someone to truly move on, because I believe the moment you are able to laugh at yourself is the moment that nothing can hurt you.

Now, I am no fool. I know that laughter will not relieve the pain of a loved one dying, a mental depression, or even a broken bone. I am merely suggesting that upon accepting, or even creating humor in many circumstances, it is possible to find peace with that situation. Why not turn the story of peeing my pants in church into a story I can share with others? If someone were to tell me that story, I would have no choice but to begin to laugh that silent air-craving laugh. I would hold in a snort and cross my legs to keep myself from urinating. This behavior is okay because of you, the storyteller, who have found a way to laugh at yourself, taking away the opportunity for someone else to tell that story and make fun of you.  When you tell it, you are embracing your stories, because they are what make you you, because “there is no one alive who is Youer than You.” Thanks Dr. Suess.

That is what I plan to do. Embrace my stories of the past and the stories still to come. I want to make people laugh. I want to tell my own painful, embarrassing stories about the time I spilled soup all over a boy on our first date. Or about the time I farted in class and blamed it on the innocent boy next to me. Using my imagination and my experience, I long to turn scarlet, humiliated cheeks into cheeks that turn red from laughing. I want to change fear and humiliation into something more powerful: laughter.  I never want to stop using my hyperbolic stories to split the sides of an eager audience. That audience doesn’t know the horrifying or humiliating truth behind the story. They don’t know that by telling that story I have become completely vulnerable to the world.

So why not be vulnerable? Why not share those moments that caused anxiety; because what listeners will hear is a funny story. But in reality, that story is much more than just a good laugh. That story is my pain; that story is my awkwardness or my humiliation; and also, that story is my freedom. That story is my life.