When I started performing stand-up comedy at 18 years old, I was in a room of people in their 30s with years of experience under their belts. I took the microphone, hands shaking slightly, and started to tell jokes that would probably make my current self cringe – a lot.
But with every laugh I earned, I learned a little more about the world and about myself. I learned how to read a room. I learned that I enjoy the buzz of adrenaline. I learned the satisfaction of listing with the rule of threes. This real-world education brought me to the conclusion that everyone should perform stand-up comedy at least once in their lives.
I already feel your trepidation. You’re worried about not being funny or confident. You’re worried about people staring at you when your punch line doesn’t lan. The truth is: I still have those concerns at some points.
However, performing comedy taught me an important lesson in embarrassment: It is temporary. Although I’d love to say I kill in every room, I’ve had a few unfortunate moments where I stumbled, where my punchlines came out before the setup, and the audience starts to feel big and scary. I think, “Maybe I should stop while I’m ahead and…”
Then it’s over – and no one threw a tomato at me. After the disaster that wasn’t a disaster, I regroup and assess what went wrong and how to do better next time. Sometimes, if the embarrassment really gets to me, I remember the golden rule: I never have to see these people again.
When I tell people I perform comedy, the response is usually along the lines of “I love comedy so much, but I could never do that.” Why? Why is the temporary feeling of embarrassment bigger than potentially finding something you really enjoy? Maybe it won’t be a career, but couldn’t it be a hobby? Don’t you want to try something just to say you’ve tried it?
“Nothing happens if nothing happens,” said Olivia Price, a junior in international relations and a performer with Liquid Fun, BU’s improv troupe. “So if you just put yourself out there by taking the risk and going up and doing even just a little warmup during open Sundays, like that kind of really opens up the store of, like, you know, microdosing anxiety. Which then leads to, you know, like taking bigger steps and taking bigger risks to push yourself.
Nothing happens if nothing happens.
“What inspired me to perform was my seeking out a creative outlet. I’ve always been involved in theatre and creative things in high school, and three years with no outlet finally got to me. I’ve gained a lot of confidence in general, and how to be strategic and creative at the same time. Improv is a lot of group thinking, listening, and leaning on other performers, so those were all things I’ve definitely gained.”
A 2023 study in The Arts in Psychotherapy found significant reductions in social anxiety and intolerance of uncertainty when performing improvisation. As a teenager entering college, I had a well of anxiety that felt like it overtook every part of my body. I overthought every sentence and would think about trivial things for hours afterward. Performing comedy – stand-up or improv – helped me, to be frank, get over it.
When you say something on stage, no matter if it’s knee-slapping or cringey, you can’t take it back. It taught me how to move forward when something doesn’t land and how to construct a better argument to enforce my point.
In my time performing, I have met other people with different stories and motivations. I’ve met several women in their 60s who picked up the hobby after retirement, or their children recently moved out and now these women can pursue a passion. They tell me that stand-up was something they always wanted to try, but they held themselves back until this point in their lives. I have met people who needed a post-breakup outlet and people who were there on a whim. Did everyone walk away deciding to dedicate themselves to it? No. But more often than not, they were glad that they tried.
Maybe you don’t have to try stand-up or improv. Maybe you can try your hand at that karaoke bar down the street (Star Karaoke, I love you). Maybe go bungee jumping and scream really loud. Try things once to say you’ve tried them. Scare yourself in a healthy way.
Life moves fast, and trying something new is a way to slow it down. Helen Coffey of The Independent explains the phenomenon well. “Doing the same things week-in, week-out … we’re not presenting our brains with anything juicy or remarkable to hang on to,” she said.
So try something new. Your existence in public spaces isn’t embarrassing, and you are deserving of being in the spaces others occupy. Embarrassment is just a small barrier to fulfillment.
You can watch Liquid Fun’s shows at no cost on March 27th, April 17th-18th, and April 30th at BU Central. Follow them @liquidfunbu on Instagram.
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