It was my birthday, a day tinged with a bittersweet anticipation of having everyone I loved gathered together. But amidst the joyous celebration, there was an absence that weighed heavily on my heart—Dad, gone and distant. Aware of the strain on my family, I yearned for nothing more than their happiness. So, I adorned a mask of smiles and laughter, hoping to uplift everyone around me. In school, I sought solace in sharing my struggles with peers, hoping to connect and feel less isolated. Some reacted with surprise, others with empathy. However, there were also those who, not fully grasping the weight of my words, said hurtful things that stung, even if unintended. Amidst the mixed reactions, I often felt awkward and embarrassed around those who knew about Dad, internalizing hurtful labels, even around those who reacted with kindness. When I returned home, still processing the impact of those reactions, Mama gently reminded me of her powerful lesson: "Smash the stigma." She handed me a board and a marker, instructing me to write down all the hurtful names the kids at school had called me: fatherless, deadbeat, too quiet, timid. Each word felt like a punch to my gut as I wrote it down, but Mama stood by, her presence a steady source of support. Once the board was filled with those cruel labels, she gave me a hammer. Together, we smashed the board into pieces, the sound of splintering wood echoing the release of pent-up anger and sadness. As the shards scattered, it felt as if the weight of those words was lifted off my shoulders. Then, she handed me a new board and encouraged me to write positive words about myself—words that reflected my true identity. I wrote friendly, joyful, magnetic, and energetic. As I wrote, I began to see myself in a new light. The act of replacing the negative words with positive affirmations was empowering. It was in that moment, surrounded by the remnants of the shattered board and the fresh slate of affirmations, that I felt an unexpected surge of laughter. It wasn't forced or fake; it was a genuine release of suppressed emotions, a cathartic moment that marked the beginning of my healing journey. As I stood amidst the wreckage of shattered perceptions, something unexpected happened. Laughter bubbled up from deep within me, unexpected and liberating. It wasn't a laughter born of denial or pretense, but one that emerged naturally, cleansing the wounds of my hidden emotions. For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to truly feel—anger, sadness, and eventually, the pure, unadulterated joy of laughter. That laughter became a turning point, a beacon of healing that guided me through the years to come. It wasn't just about masking pain anymore; it was about acknowledging and embracing all emotions, even the uncomfortable ones. Through my journey, I came to understand that while laughter could be a powerful healer, it should never be forced. Each emotion, whether pleasant or painful, held its place in the tapestry of my experiences. Today, as I lead a peer support group, I draw upon those early lessons of smashing stigma and embracing authenticity. I've seen firsthand how sharing our stories and allowing ourselves to feel deeply can transform lives. Laughter, now a symbol of resilience and courage, often emerges in our sessions—not as a mask, but as a genuine expression of shared humanity. It's a reminder that healing isn't linear, and it doesn't always come in quiet moments of reflection but sometimes in the uproarious release of laughter. Through our group, we break down barriers of shame and isolation, encouraging others to confront their traumas with compassion and courage. Just like Mama did for me. Each session is a testament to the power of vulnerability and the healing potential of shared laughter. It's a journey marked by moments of profound connection and understanding, where tears mingle freely with laughter, and every emotion finds its rightful place. In the end, I've come to cherish not just the laughter that springs from joyous moments but also the laughter that emerges from the depths of shared pain and healing. It's a reminder that while not all emotions feel good, they are all necessary. And through it all, I continue to honor Mama's wisdom—to smash the stigma, to embrace authenticity, and to hold space for every emotion, knowing that each contributes to the beautiful complexity of being human.