This week’s question comes from Gregory Stock’s thought-provoking collection, The Book of Questions: When you do something ridiculous, how much does it bother you to have other people notice it and laugh at you? What’s the funniest thing about you?

At first glance, this might seem like a simple question about embarrassment and self-consciousness. But dig a little deeper, and you’ll find it reveals quite a bit about our relationship with ourselves and our personal growth over time.

In my case, the answer is pretty straightforward: it doesn’t bother me at all when people laugh at something ridiculous I’ve done. In fact, I had trouble coming up with specific examples of times when I’ve been laughed at, not because these moments haven’t happened (they certainly have), but because they simply don’t register as memorable events in my mind. When you’re comfortable with yourself and don’t take yourself too seriously, being the subject of laughter becomes about as noteworthy as what you had for breakfast three weeks ago.

But it wasn’t always this way. Like most people, I was easily embarrassed as a kid. The thought of others laughing at me would have been mortifying. Somewhere between high school and college, though, something shifted. I stopped taking myself so seriously, and that changed everything.

This transformation is interesting to reflect on, especially since I can’t point to a specific moment when it happened. There was no grand epiphany, no enlightening incident that suddenly made me immune to embarrassment. Instead, it seems to have been a gradual evolution, the kind that happens so slowly you don’t notice it until you look back and realize you’re not the same person you used to be.

Today, my sense of humor tends toward the dry and sarcastic, which often gets laughs in group settings. But there’s a difference between people laughing with you and laughing at you, right? Well, maybe. But I’ve found that the line between the two becomes increasingly blurry when you stop caring about which side of it you’re on. When you’re comfortable enough with yourself to laugh at your own absurdities, the distinction becomes largely meaningless.

This question also makes me think about the role of laughter in our social interactions. We often assume that being laughed at is inherently negative, something to be avoided at all costs. But is it really? Laughter, even when directed at our mistakes or awkward moments, can be a form of connection. It can diffuse tension, create shared experiences, and remind us that we’re all human and perfectly imperfect.

Think about the people you feel most comfortable around. Chances are, these are the people you can be ridiculous with, the ones who’ve seen you at your most absurd and still stick around. Maybe being laughed at isn’t always about embarrassment or ridicule. Sometimes it’s about being authentic enough to let others see our unpolished, unscripted moments.

The second part of this week’s question asks about the funniest thing about ourselves. For me, it’s probably my dry, sarcastic sense of humor. But even that answer feels incomplete. Is the funniest thing about us something we consciously project, like a particular style of humor? Or is it something we don’t even notice about ourselves, some quirk or habit that others find endlessly amusing while we remain blissfully unaware?

Perhaps the funniest things about us are often the things we don’t intentionally try to make funny. The unconscious mannerisms, the unique ways we see the world, the little oddities that make us who we are – these are often what others find most amusing about us, even if we never planned them as comedy material.

In reflecting on this question, I’ve realized that our relationship with being laughed at often mirrors our broader relationship with vulnerability and self-acceptance. When we’re young, we tend to guard ourselves carefully against any possibility of embarrassment. We try to maintain perfect control over how others perceive us, as if we could somehow script every interaction to show only our best angles.

But as we mature – if we’re lucky – we begin to understand that perfect control is both impossible and unnecessary. We learn that there’s a kind of freedom in letting go of the need to always appear composed and dignified. We discover that some of life’s best moments come when we allow ourselves to be seen as we truly are, ridiculous moments and all.

This doesn’t mean we should never feel embarrassed or that it’s wrong to care what others think. Those are natural human experiences and concerns. But perhaps the goal isn’t to never do anything ridiculous or to never be laughed at. Maybe the goal is to reach a place where we can participate in the laughter, to find humor in our own humanity rather than shame in our imperfections.

Looking back at my journey from an easily embarrassed kid to someone who rarely gives a second thought to being laughed at, I see it as part of a larger process of growing into myself. It’s about learning that dignity isn’t about never making mistakes or looking foolish – it’s about being secure enough in yourself to handle those moments with grace and good humor.

So, how much does it bother me when people notice and laugh at something ridiculous I’ve done? Not at all. And maybe that’s not just an answer about embarrassment or humor. Maybe it’s an answer about growth, self-acceptance, and the kind of freedom that comes from learning to take yourself just seriously enough – but not too seriously.

What about you? How do you feel when others laugh at your ridiculous moments? What’s the funniest thing about you? The answers might tell you more about yourself than you expect.