I Believe in Fart Jokes

Laughter has always come easy to me. My parents tell me about how often I laughed as a baby, or the way I distracted my classmates by cracking up non-stop at my own jokes. Laughter was my medicine. To make friends, I’d make a fart joke or something and hope for the best – and as kids, people did laugh at those. If people were arguing, I’d crack a fart joke to ease the tension, and if someone was sad, I’d crack a fart joke to lighten the mood. It really was that simple in elementary school. 

 

Laughter was my form of living, so I took it for granted; I never considered that at any point, it would become hard to do what occurred so naturally for me. 

 

Throughout my life, my family would consistently tell me I “wasn’t self-conscious enough.” Before meeting new people, they always advised me to “tone it down” – to put on an act in order to leave a better first impression. It never used to bother me, because I just didn’t listen, and continued being confident and unwavering; but inevitably, I began to internalize those words. What had been one of my greatest assets became an insecurity. 

 

I addressed this paranoia regarding my image in different ways. In middle school, I grew anxious, finding it very difficult to be in crowded places or groups, often breaking down and having to excuse myself. I went from speech competitions to choking on my words and crying during small class presentations; the environment I once thrived in became an enemy. 

 

Coming to Shawnigan in Grade 9, I did a complete 360. I had planned to create a more nonchalant persona, but that was scrapped by my overwhelming excitement to start here; I just couldn’t hide my personality! I thought it worked in my favour until I heard people saying otherwise, so the next year, I tried a little harder to conceal myself again. My self-doubt manifested by attacking every aspect of my personality and life: my appearance, my academic and social intelligence, what I tied my worth to, and so on. I pushed my friends away, I actively tried not to talk during class, and I didn’t express myself fully. I wondered if anyone would notice. Honestly, it probably wasn’t obvious, and to everyone else I was just as loud, but to me, everything felt forced. I interacted with fewer people, and when I did, I wasn’t myself. I lost my sense of identity, like an observer trapped in someone else’s body. 

 

As my last year at Shawnigan approached, I realized how tired I was of worrying about every little thing. There were so many people I had spent the last few years with that I had never spoken to, many of which I wanted to befriend. Years of aspiring for everyone to like me brought the realization that presenting a character for others came at the cost of people actually liking me. So I started making fart jokes again, and laughing as big and loudly at them as I did when I was in elementary school. I spent more time with people that lifted each other up, who laughed and made the same jokes back, and reached out to those I’d never spoken to before. The decision to be myself was what brought my closest friends to me. I realized that if someone didn’t resonate with my personality, I probably wouldn’t resonate with them either, and that was actually fine. Being hungry for validation was what left me starved of fulfilling experiences lived genuinely. 

 

Whether it’s through fashion, artistry, words, or anything else, self-expression is the most important part of the human experience. Appealing to everyone does not necessarily equate to being happy or finding your most important relationships; as a matter of fact, it often makes you lose the things that require genuine connection.

 

I don’t think anxiety ever really disappears; I still choke on my words, get shy around new people, and all the stuff that, I think, everyone does. My hope is that, despite these things, everyone listening can find their fart joke, something that unashamedly embraces who you are in the face of self-doubt. 

 

I hope that everyone can dress, enjoy whatever hobbies, listen to any music, pursue any passion, and laugh as loudly as they want; it is exactly what you are most afraid of that people will love you for. This I believe.