In 2011, I toyed with the idea of taking comedy seriously. Life, as it often does, got in the way. But recently, someone I deeply respect reached out to me, saying they believed in my comedic potential. Now, people say things all the time, and usually, I take it with a grain of salt. However, this individual’s words struck a chord. It wasn’t the first time someone had suggested I pursue comedy, but it was the first time it resonated with me. Maybe I could do it. Maybe I should.
Sometimes, it’s about the right place, the right time, and being open to hearing it. The last time I considered comedy seriously, the internet was a different beast. You could still grow an audience with blog posts and business ventures. I managed to carve out a living for myself. But now, everything has shifted. The landscape is different. So why not give it a go? If others believe I can do it, perhaps I should trust their judgement over my own self-doubt.
A lot of my uncertainty stems from negative self-talk rather than a lack of talent or ability. I used to be terrified of video, yet now I live stream to no one without a second thought. There’s something powerful about working out loud, about that stream of consciousness, about leaning into vulnerability. I openly admit I have stage fright. Many comics do. Many comics are introverts, neurotic, and overthinkers. They drink, they can’t sleep, they obsess, they overanalyse.
This shared neurosis is almost a badge of honour in the comedy world. It’s comforting to know I’m not alone in these feelings. It’s about embracing the fear, the vulnerability, and using it to fuel creativity. So, here I am, ready to dive into comedy, despite the fear, despite the self-doubt. Because sometimes, you just have to take the leap and trust that the net will appear.