“You’re only given one little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.” — Robin Williams
Growing up in a conservative environment as a socially awkward Chinese girl, I never considered myself a funny person. Both my parents are extremely reserved and their worst nightmare — besides their daughter “losing face” and embarrassing themselves in public— is their daughter sharing her flaws and personal shame history to entertain a group of strangers. Unfortunately, I have done both. And I LOVED IT.
Without doing stand-up comedy, I would never have been able to discover the magic of my “craziness” — the inner creative energy that has been locked up and suppressed for a long, long time. Even though I am still a fresh newbie in the comedy world — or any creative pursuits I’m exploring — it has transformed my life profoundly in many ways.
So why did I decide to do stand-up?
The Quarter-life Crisis
During the latter half of 2019, I went through a period of severe depression and anxiety, triggered by a series of setbacks in my personal relationships and career.
I thought it was just like one of my previous depressive episodes back in university. I just needed to “suck it up”, keep myself busy at work — and things would get better.
Except it did not get better. For weeks and months, regardless of what I did, I felt like being drown underwater in the ocean; or being stuck in the “sunken place” in the movie Get Out — paralyzed, helpless and unable to action even though I could still see and hear what was happening around me.
And everything started falling apart.
I was no longer the driven and responsible “high performer” at work. I was burnt out, unfocused and as slow as a rusty machine. I felt extremely guilty about losing motivation at work, and I felt horrible letting my colleagues down during our busy season.
I was no longer the energetic, warm and bubbly me in my personal life. I started having emotional outbursts to people close to me whenever I faced even the smallest challenge in my intimate relationships. Friends told me “It’s so draining talking to you. You’re so negative.” “Stop being so dramatic!” “I’m sorry, but I need to keep my distance from you.”
It turned into a downward spiral of self-hatred. I lost my energy, appetite, and interest in everything I used to love. Even the simplest actions like getting out of bed or washing my face felt exhausting. I spent days like a hermit at home being overwhelmed by stress, despair, and emotional breakdowns.
Every day, a dramatic voice in my head said, “I might as well not exist. Maybe it will make everyone else’s life easier.” I felt I was gradually dying on the inside as days went by.
To lift myself out of this suffocating black hole, I tried all the coping mechanisms I could find. Psychotherapy, arts, meditation, antidepressants, exercising, self-help books and classes etc. Although some of them offered temporary relief and kept me functioning like a normal human at times, deep down, at my core, I was still Sadness from Pixar’s Inside Out. I constantly felt like a burden to this world and the people I care about.
Until one day, a spontaneous decision planted a seed of hope within me.
A Moment of Breakthrough
Near the end of 2019, I signed up for a 3.5-day personal development program, where participants voluntarily went on stage to share their struggles and receive coaching on-the-spot in front of a class of 200 people.
On the last day, I found the guts to go on stage and share my story.
“Hi everyone. I am an Asian millennial…And I’m having a quarter-life crisis.” Pause. And some audience started laughing. That was unexpected — Hmm, what’s funny about it?
“I suck at dating…I can’t keep any guy for more than a month. The turnover rate is so high. I think I’m cursed.” I shrugged. The laughter continued.
“I chose accounting as my major…because my mom is an accountant and my dad teaches accounting.” Several people sitting in the front row were shaking from laughter. Hmm maybe it’s indeed funny.
“I put in 6 years of hardwork to become a 'successful’ CPA thinking it would lead to a ‘good’ life. I ended up getting depressed. I did not like it but I also don’t know what I like or can be good at…I’m stuck.” I smiled sarcastically as I said. A few laughs. A few silent nods.
That speech did not give me a happy-ever-after or epic transformation like those inspiring montages in movies. However, during those few minutes, I had a moment of breakthrough. When I heard the laughter from the audience, I felt a warm sparkling sensation flowing through my entire body that I had not felt for a very long time — aliveness. It was so soothing, refreshing and therapeutic that the heavy clouds of depression were temporarily dissolved for a little while.
After I got off stage and walked back to my seat, one of my friends asked me, “Have you considered doing stand-up comedy? You’ve got some talent.”
Two months later, I walked into the Stand Up 1 classroom at the Second City Training Centre in Toronto’s Entertainment District, as an attempt to re-ignite my aliveness.
Second City and Second Family
“It is well known that humor, more than anything else in the human make-up, can afford an aloofness and an ability to rise above any situation, even if only for a few seconds. … The attempt to develop a sense of humor and to see things in a humorous light is some kind of a trick learned while mastering the art of living.” — Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning
My favorite Second City classmates made some savage comments on their first impression of me 6 weeks after our first stand-up class together, “She is kinda annoying because she is always smiling.” “In our first class, this nerdy girl took up two-persons’ spot on the tiny table with her work laptop, and started taking notes. I was like, ‘She’s not gonna be funny’. But once she started telling jokes, it totally surprised me and changed my mind.”
In fact, my Second City class did not start as a very pleasant experience. The smile my classmates saw on Day 1 was a protective armor I put up to hide my inner black hole. And I took notes on my work laptop because (1) My Asian cheapness wanted to make my $300+ tuition worth it; (2) I have the same memory as Dory from Finding Nemo and I hate my own handwriting; (3) Who knows, these notes might cheer me up at my inevitable on-the-job cry later in the day.
And when the teacher asked each of us to introduce ourselves, my social battery was already at zero. There is nothing interesting about me. My depressed ass wanted to leave, go home and crawl back into bed.
But then some of my classmates’ self intros made me sit still in my chair and stay through the rest of the first class. “I came here because I had depression.” “I also came here because I had depression…and almost killed myself.” “I used to work as an auditor. People think auditors are boring but I’m a creative person. I want to discover a different side of myself.”
Wow…I am not alone here. I thought to myself. In that moment, even though I was still strangers with my classmates, I felt an immediate sense of connection to them and compassionate understanding towards them — and that triggered a spark of aliveness in my body.
The first class was focused around finding comedic premises (strong opinions/emotions about a subject), which is a common starting point of writing jokes. Although we did not write jokes in my first class, I had a powerful realization, an “awakening moment” during our brainstorming session — some of the best premises originate from negative experiences and feelings.
Our teacher Rihannon Archer is a very lovely, humorous and encouraging lady who helped create a very safe environment for us to get out of our shells and get quirky. There was no such thing as “too weird” — we learned really early on that a lot of times humor comes from surprises and a peculiar lens toward every-day subjects. We were allowed to unlock our inner madness and let our creativity run wild; and Rihannon would provide feedback on how we can “punch harder”, engage our audience better, or put a more hilarious spin on our materials.
My classmates were all super open, incredibly talented and kinda crazy in their own unique ways. As they shared about their personal insecurities, shame and vulnerability in class, I realized that almost everyone went through some levels of “fucked-up” phases in their life — some once lived on welfare because of a “wrong” career choice, while others went through many dysfunctional relationships. Instead of making them “losers”, those phases built their characters and made them so relatable. It made me reflect on my own quarter-life crisis — at the time, even though I still did not know what to do with my career, still did not have a clear sense of direction in life, still struggled to find love, still suffered from depression & anxiety…maybe this period of low time was meant to help me learn something new about myself, adapt to a new life style, or even create a New Me. Maybe, it was something to be grateful about, that I went through those failures and breakdowns. Maybe, they can all turn into good comedy material one day!
At our 3rd class, we took turns to showcase our first homework — a 1–2 minute comedy set we wrote based on the premise, set-up and punchline techniques we learned during previous classes. I presented a set on the premise of “Chinese people hate each other”. To be totally honest, I did not find my own jokes funny. But somehow half of my class laughed. They were probably just being nice and supportive.
Despite my discouraging self-talks, the laughs still boosted my energy. I felt the aliveness in me being ignited again.
Ever since then, I picked up the habit of noting down any potential premises in my life — from my most awkward and embarrassing experiences, to any ridiculous trends I noticed in the world around me — and used my divergent thinking to expand upon them. Set-ups and punchlines piled up as I jotted down any new ideas that popped up in my head. By the time we were told to prepare a 5-minute set for our graduation show, I struggled with squeezing my “best jokes” into the time limit — because I had too much material.
On February 27, 2020, I had my first-ever public performance as a newbie stand-up comedian at Second City’s John Candy Box theatre in front of 80+ people. My mom and a few of my friends came to support me in the audience. Despite having practiced my set 100 times, I could still feel my legs shaking — out of both nervousness and excitement — when I went on stage. However, when the lights focused on me and when I started landing my first wave of laughs from the audience, I could feel a surge of energy flowing through my body — the aliveness from creative self-expression, the courage to let myself be seen, and the fulfillment of bringing joy to others. As I wrapped up my set with several waves of laughter from the audience, my heart was filled with pure happiness.
Our class ended, but our friendship continued. Before COVID-19 lockdown started, my Second City classmates would have dinner and hilarious conversations together at Gabby’s on King Street every other week. Even during the quarantine, we would connect on Zoom for virtual comedy shows and internal workshops every once in a while to keep our comedic spirits going. We became close friends who cheered for each other’s little steps and lifted each other up during our low times.
In addition to a super kick-ass hobby that lit up my inner sparks, I have found a second family who have my back. Even up till now, some of them are still my best friends whom I crack silly jokes with every day.
The New Doors that Open Up
“Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.” — Brene Brown, Daring Greatly
Soon after I posted my Second City grad show video on social media, I received lots of support from my network. A very kind and creative friend of mine, Jessica Fan, commented “So proud of you for doing this, Amy! What a great performance! You’re inspiring”. After the COVID19 lock-down started in March, she invited me to a virtual coffeehouse — a talent show she hosted on Zoom, with 100+ strangers attending from around the world.
Was I nervous? Definitely. “What if I’m not funny enough? What if my jokes are too lame?”
But excitement overpowered my fear as soon as I saw the unique individuality in every performer. Most of them were not professional singers/musicians/artists, but all of them loved what they shared. None of us were perfect; yet we were all so here together, celebrating our imperfections, talents, and passions — across borders and time zones. Celebrating aliveness.
When it was my turn to perform, I did a set about COVID-19 social commentary, the cringey fanfiction I wrote when I was 12, accounting and depression. The Zoom comment section exploded with “LOL” “LMAO” “That’s a good one!” “Definitely can relate!” Some of the audience members even messaged me privately and said, “You are amazing! My stomach hurts from laughing too hard.” While all the positive feedback was very flattering, what I found truly meaningful were the friendships and connections I made after that event. My openness to share about my “shame history” somehow made it easy for people to approach me and share their own personal journey.
When I later reflected on it, I realized what made doing standup comedy such an empowering activity to me was not just knowing that “I’m funny”. It is also an opportunity to embrace my vulnerabilities, to connect with people on a personal level, and to create a space of acceptance & a sense of belonging for those who see a part of themselves in my set. By making fun of the pains and darkness that haunt us, we come to terms with our inner demons.
Thanks to the virtual coffeehouse, I was very lucky to befriend several incredibly courageous, creative and inspiring Asian millennials who went through very unconventional journeys to pursue more authentic careers & lifestyles, including a former-Big 4 auditor- turned-digital-artist, a software engineer who tells story about the tech industry through comics, and a designer who produces experiences that connect people together through storytelling and play. Although they all have very different life paths and personalities, they all share one thing in common — the aliveness whenever they talk about their passions and creative pursuits.
Listening to their stories opened up my mind and catalyzed my own spiritual awakening. Although I did not immediately find the answers to “What do I want to do for a career”, “What is my life’s purpose” or “What should I do next”, my heart received a very powerful message —
It’s okay not having the answers. It’s okay to slow down. But I need to pay attention to what makes me feel alive.
The Pursuit of Aliveness
“I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.” — Albert Einstein
After the social media debut of my new identity as a standup comedian, many acquaintances asked me, “So is this your new career?” “When can I see your Netflix Special?” “OMG Are you gonna become the next Ali Wong?!”
While I appreciated their recognition and (over-optimistic) faith in my comedic potential, deep down, I still had many unresolved challenges.
Comedy has become a very therapeutic coping mechanism for depression, has brought me to people I never thought I could connect with, has open up so many new doors. I am deeply in love with it and it is a craft I am willing to continuously get better at.
But it is not my “one true calling”. In fact, most standup comedians started out in completely different professions, and are still working full-time in those professions. One common-and-obvious reason is they need sustainable income. Another reason is they also love many other things.
One of my biggest struggles in life? I am curious about way too many things and cannot just settle on one. In an environment that appreciates specialists over generalists, and long term commitments over short term explorations, I feel very guilty — even ashamed — with easily getting bored.
I teared up when I first saw Emilie Wapnick’s Ted Talk about multipotentialite, because for the first time in a long time, I felt that someone finally understood my struggles, and there were many other “crazy” people like me out there.
I realized that as someone who likes too many things, variety — in addition to creativity — was the key to aliveness for me. And it is totally okay.
On May 6, 2020, my previous job ended with a COVID-19 lay-off. While many people felt sorry for me, I saw it as the perfect opportunity to finally take a step back, rest, recharge, and re-design my life.
To define the direction of my next career, I needed to identify and synthesize all activities that bring out my aliveness; so I jotted down a list of things that made me feel most “alive” throughout my university and professional life:
- Innovation & creating something new
- Ideation & brainstorming
- Turning great ideas into reality
- Storytelling & public speaking
- Wearing multiple hats on the same project
- Understanding, and empathizing with people
- Cheering people up during difficult times
- Connecting likeminded people and building community
- Working with people from different backgrounds and perspectives
- Influencing people to find their potentials and deliver something together
- Figuring things out and help an unfamiliar audience understand them
- Creative — sometimes scrappy — problem-solving
- Learning something new that enables me to solve problems or help others
My career transition journey during the intentional post lay-off gap period will be covered in a separate Medium article. Long story short, I have taken risks, expanded my network, and picked up new projects that 2019 Amy would never have imagined doing. I am now a lot more comfortable dealing with uncertainty, and excited to tackle any challenges coming my way. Without the courage, resilience and openness I gained from stand-up comedy, and all the incredible people who supported me along the way, none of these would have been possible.
And I would love to end this article with a quote from Charlie Chaplin:
“Life can be wonderful if you’re not afraid of it. All it needs is courage, imagination … and a little dough.”
Ending Note
A big thank-you to everyone who take the time to read through this LONGGGGGGGGGGG article. If my self discovery journey has helped or inspired you in any ways, please generously leave your claps!
