Feel Like Your Laugh Is Borrowed From Someone Else?
- Andrei Schiller-Chan
- Sep 28
- 6 min read
The shame that accompanies inauthenticity and rediscovering joy
This piece is adapted from my new book, The Orator's Odyssey, which explores how our voice shapes identity, belonging, and influence.
There's deep-rooted cause behind our innate urge to mirror others, but if there's a dull pang of shame amid your laughter because there's a sense it's not your own, like it's borrowed, then it might signal that something requires your attention.
In writing my new book on public speaking, The Orator's Odyssey, I often reflected on my earliest memories of using my voice as a child. Memories that evoked strong emotion within me were the moments of pure jubilation that were entwined with a measure of shame. I have the distinct recollection that sometimes I could not experience one without the other, and part of it was because I was acutely aware that my laughter never felt like it was "mine". It always sounded like those around me, and perhaps would latch itself to a friend's prosody for a good few months, as my muscle memory had effectively done its job at masterful imitation. I became embarrassed and sometimes downright paranoid that my laughter, because it was so accurately in sync with my friend's pitch and prosody, that it would make them feel uncomfortable or that they would see right through me. Shame had already been etched into me at a young age - I had grown accustomed to its presence, and to defend against it with all my might, which is usually our instinctual response. My advice for my younger self would be:
Don't grow accustomed to shame; like a lighthouse that guides ships in dark waters, so may it be for you. Look towards it.
Before we dig into the reasons for this imitation and how it works at a physiological and psychological level, it's worth noting that the raison d'être for this piece is that any knowledge we can gain on how to build young folks' self-esteem and notice it early is a win for them and society as a whole. I've spent decades "growing up", recovering from broken early development, but had I had the knowledge I know now and had a means to impart it to myself, life would've been easier. And so, I write this as a means for us, the older few, to teach our children well and recognise the tell-tale signs of low self-esteem or a lack of healthy ego development.
But first, let's explore why we are inherently skilled imitators, sometimes to the point of pathology, and what it reveals about our psychological needs.
Mirror Neurons
At the heart of imitation lie mirror neurons, brain cells that fire both when we perform an action and when we see someone else performing it. These neurons act like internal mirrors, allowing us not just to copy but also to empathise with others. Empathy and imitation share the same neurological pathways, suggesting that when we imitate, we're also connecting emotionally with another. However, the reason for the existence of these neurons is likely due to the survival strategies we inherited from our mammalian ancestors; we feel these neurons fire aggressively when one of our friends freezes at attention, and we instinctively do the same, or why we yawn when we see another yawn.
Imitation
Albert Bandura's Social Learning Theory underscores how we naturally absorb behaviours through observation and modelling. We don't imitate blindly; we copy those we admire or perceive as successful, often without even realising it. This subconscious mimicry helps us learn new skills, integrate socially, and perhaps find our identities by seeing ourselves reflected in others.
But for some, imitation is survival. Those grappling with a weak sense of self or low self-esteem often adopt characteristics, lifestyles, or even life paths from others to build their own identities. It's a way to anchor oneself in a swell of uncertainty, creating a sense of stability by reflecting someone else's clarity and confidence.
When Laughter Doesn't Feel Like Your Own
But here's the crux: Laughter, while universally contagious and bonding, can sometimes knot a complicated wiring of entangled feelings as it did for me. When we consciously or subconsciously imitate the exact cadence, pitch, or prosody of someone else's laughter, it can feel foreign. My experience led to feelings of shame, as the laughter did not feel authentic or genuine. Such feelings led to negative self-talk, as there is a sense that you are alone in this experience, and that there is something inherently "wrong" with you.
Indeed, such precise imitation often stems from deeper insecurities about one's identity or acceptance, highlighting a psychological need to conform at the cost of personal authenticity. My shame associated with recognising my laughter as borrowed was a marker of a deeper identity struggle as a child, which ultimately indicated the need for therapeutic exploration and self-discovery decades down the line.
Childhood
Attachment Theory suggests that those with insecure attachments or emotional deprivation during childhood may intensely mimic others to gain acceptance or attachment. The obsessive mirroring becomes an unconscious strategy to connect, filling emotional voids left by earlier relationships. Having understood my childhood from a mature lens, the reasons for my masking complete the puzzle. Insecure attachment created through the effects of post-natal depression, objective carer absence, mental illness and generational trauma passed down to us, had severe impacts on our development growing up; "borrowed" laughter was but a signal of a young self desperately trying to understand itself.
Breaking the Cycle
Taking responsibility for our actions and choices is essential for those seeking to discover or rediscover who they once were or aspire to be. If we are at the mercy of others or events outside our control, we'll forever be buffeted around like a piñata, given that life is by definition always changing.
However, we need to balance this mindset of knowing what is in our control and what is not. Whilst this sounds like an oxymoron, let me explain: There are things we have total agency over, and then there are the emotional triggers that are hard-wired for us by our upbringing. These triggers kick in before the rational mind has a chance to step in; for example, the fear of abandonment that floods us the moment someone we care about appears emotionally distant. You might unconsciously seek ways to either cling desperately to the other, or, to save yourself pain, find ways to push them away to retain some measure of individuation and hurt.
The rediscovery of my laughter came with the work to rediscover myself. Now I just laugh without the feeling of the observer and the observed.
The work provided, first and foremost, an acceptance of why my body was performing this imitation, underscoring that I was not "alone" and that I could learn to "let go" in the presence of others and trust that they would still see and care for me.
I hope that this article provides a resource to any who feels like they are constantly observed and judged by themselves. Life can be different if there is a willingness to understand the "why" behind your actions and thoughts, and discover the imperative to be kind to yourself. A way to frame your self-talk would be to imagine your response to a situation in which a child asks you if there is anything wrong with them because they seem to laugh like their friends. This reframing might be useful in just about every part of life that denotes a judgment of sorts, and 99% of the time, the response you'll provide is "that's ok".
Ultimately, imitation reveals a human truth: we seek connection and understanding. While it's crucial to recognise when imitation drifts toward pathology, the inherent desire to mirror others underscores our social nature and the need for belonging. By understanding these dynamics, we can navigate the balance between reflecting others and being kind to ourselves.
If this article spoke to you, consider taking the next step with The Orator's Odyssey. The book distils years of research and coaching into a practical guide for reclaiming your voice, whether it be for public speaking or for everyday conversations where connection, confidence, and presence matter. It's written for anyone who has ever felt their voice was borrowed, silenced, or misunderstood.
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