Why laughing at yourself is the one habit worth learning

Your early twenties are strange years. You’ve just stepped out of the cocoon of adolescence but are expected to walk through adulthood like you know the map. You look at older adults and assume they’ve cracked it; you look at teenagers and miss the version of yourself that seemed lighter, freer. Somewhere between chasing jobs and chasing meaning in the ‘real world’, you start to lose your footing.

I used to think this stage was supposed to feel confusing and heavy. Strangely, I’m enjoying my twenties more than my teenage years or even childhood, and the reason is simple: learning the art of laughing at yourself.

For as long as I can remember, I wore perfectionism like a second skin. I was ‘the good one’: the diligent student, the model daughter, the girl who never got it wrong. It looked enviable, but it was exhausting. Every choice was weighed against reputation; every slip felt catastrophic. By the time I was a teenager, that pressure had hardened into anxiety. I cared too much about what people thought—especially what I thought of me. Looking into the mirror became an exercise in criticism: my posture, my skin, my tone, my words. Everything needed fixing.

The turning point came with one liberating thought: I’m not that important. The world wasn’t scrutinising me half as cruelly as I was scrutinising myself. Nobody was watching every move, and even if they were, they’d forget it by dinner. We scroll past hundreds of stories and reels a day; how many do we actually remember? Everyone’s caught up in their own loops, their own insecurities. So maybe it’s okay if my story isn’t perfectly edited.

Around that time, I stumbled on a reel that changed my perspective entirely. It referenced a scene from Friends: Ross stuck in Mona’s bathroom, frantically trying to pull on his pants. To him, it was mortifying. To the audience, hilarious. That contrast made me wonder, what if I could see myself the same way?

So I began treating my life like a sitcom. Spilled coffee on my shirt before an important meeting? Cue the laugh track. Sent an awkward text? Just another cringe episode. Missed a deadline? A clumsy subplot. What once felt catastrophic began to feel comical. I wasn’t the tragic protagonist anymore, just a character in a story worth smiling at.

According to psychotherapist and wellness coach Harleen Bagga, founder of Soul Therapy, Hyderabad, laughing at yourself can be both a healthy mechanism and a mirror for self-awareness. “It’s a way of embracing imperfections and finding room for growth,” she says. “When done with the right intent, it builds emotional resilience, helping the nervous system respond instead of react.”

Bagga adds that humour can also turn defensive: “Some people use it to mask inadequacy or avoid confrontation. Intent matters because while laughter boosts dopamine and lightens the mood, if it’s rooted in self-deprecation, it can reinforce low self-worth.”