This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Wisconsin chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.
A little laughter goes a long way
Scientifically, there are plenty of reasons to laugh. It reduces stress, lifts your mood, boosts resilience and even sharpens thinking. But beyond all the proven benefits of laughter, I’ve realized something else: being easily laughable, quick to find joy and laugh with others, has shaped some of my strongest connections.
For the past few summers, I worked as a counsellor for kids ages five to nine. Even though they’re little, they feel and think in surprisingly complex ways, which can make it tricky to connect with them. On the first day of camp, one camper in particular was terrified to be away from her mom. She sat quietly off to the side, refusing to join the group. I gave her space at first, then sat down and taught her how to braid a patterned bracelet. She stayed silent, on the verge of tears, and I started to doubt whether I was reaching her.
As she slowly got the hang of the bracelet, I asked her simple questions about her, and eventually, she began narrating the colours of the string she was holding. At one point, she picked up the bright blue string and said, “Now it’s the red string’s turn.” Something about the seriousness in her voice struck me as hilarious. I laughed, really laughed, and for the first time that morning, she smiled. She went again: picked up the yellow string and declared, “Purple’s turn,” and I laughed even harder, and soon, she was laughing with me. This silly game went on for twenty minutes until she finally decided to join the rest of the group.
Through my very unofficial research study, I witnessed firsthand the power of being easily laughable. Was her joke objectively hilarious? No. But was it worth my over-the-top laughter if it helped her feel like she belonged in her new environment? Absolutely.
Later that summer, I travelled to Uganda with my global health professor. Most of our time was spent learning about the healthcare system, but in our free hours, we wandered around the community in Mukono. Unlike the Spanish I learned in high school, Luganda had almost no overlap with English. The language barrier was real, but somehow, laughter helped us overcome it.
When people spoke to us, there was often this tiny pause at the end of a sentence, a hopeful half-smile, like they were waiting to see if we understood. Most of the time, I didn’t, but when I saw that look, I laughed, and they laughed too, and suddenly there was warmth. The more we laughed together, the more open the conversations became, even if we didn’t share many words or experiences. It taught me that laughter can break through walls that language can’t.
Looking back, my closest friendships have always been the ones filled with laughter. Of course, they also have kindness and compassion, but laughter is what lays the groundwork. It creates safety, vulnerability and joy, and from that, grows a real connection.
Being easily laughable isn’t about surrounding yourself with the funniest people. It’s about expecting joy instead of waiting to be surprised by it. It’s laughing to make others feel included, not judged—because honestly, there’s no worse feeling than making a joke and getting silence in return.
And it turns out “contagious laughter” is real. When we hear someone laugh, our brains are wired to want to laugh too. So even if the joke isn’t actually funny, the laughter itself can spark joy, and I think that often the moment matters more than the punchline.
So from now on, when people ask what I value most in friends or partners, my answer will be laughter. Not cleverness or perfect timing, just people who choose joy, and invite it in wherever they go.