My Smile as a Shield
I was caught in the act twice last week. It is a bit of a strange thing to be busted for, but apparently, I have a very specific tell when things get heavy. I will be in the middle of sharing a scary story about my past, or digging into the gritty details of a health flare up, and there it is. I am smiling. I am even letting out a little laugh while describing something that is objectively quite difficult. It is an incredibly interesting thing to have pointed out by two different people in such a short span of time, especially since this is a response I have had for as long as I can remember.
When you are discussing something so deeply personal, laughter can feel like a total betrayal of your own experience. It feels out of place and even jarring to the person listening. But I have come to realize that this isn't a lack of seriousness or a sign that I don't care. It is a trauma response, plain and simple. I don't feel the need to apologize for it anymore, but I do still worry that people might think I am being flippant about my health or the well-being of my kids. The reality is that I am trying to protect myself. This is my body’s way of preventing me from completely losing my shit and falling into a place of uncontrollable crying.
If you find yourself chuckling while describing a frightening medical appointment, you are not alone. This is actually a sophisticated biological manoeuvre. Our nervous systems are designed to keep us safe, and when the emotional load of a story becomes too heavy, the brain looks for an immediate way to discharge that energy.
Nervous System Regulation: When we talk about the health of our family, our fight or flight response often kicks in. Cortisol spikes and adrenaline rises to a level that feels unsustainable. Laughter acts as a physical release valve, triggering endorphins that help pull us back toward equilibrium before we reach a breaking point.
The Protective Buffer: Laughter creates a form of psychological distance. By finding the absurdity or the irony in a painful situation, we make the information slightly more digestible for ourselves. It does not make the situation less serious; it just makes it more manageable so we can keep speaking without being paralyzed by the weight of the words.
The Logic of the Absurd: Often, the paths we navigate with autoimmune health, big stress or family life are filled with incongruity. These are things that simply should not be happening. Our brains identify these sharp, tragic ironies, and laughter becomes the only way to process the sheer absurdity of the moment.
That smile is not a mask of happiness; it is a shield. It is a sturdy, invisible wall I build in real time to stay present in the conversation without being swallowed whole by the grief. When I am laughing through a story that should be moving me to tears, it is because my system has decided that crying is a luxury I cannot afford in that moment. If I start, I might not be able to stop, so the shield goes up. It is a way to compartmentalize the pain just enough to finish the sentence.
This response is a testament to how hard we are working to keep things together. Understanding this as a survival mechanism changes the narrative from one of confusion to one of resilience. It is not about a lack of feeling; it is about an abundance of it.
If you find yourself laughing through the hard stories, try to meet yourself with a bit of compassion. Your body is doing exactly what it was built to do: it is keeping you upright and functional. It is allowing you to tell your story and share your truth, one breath and maybe one nervous laugh at a time.
