Who Are Your Imaginary Critics? How To Stop Pre-Rejecting Your Funny Thoughts

A while back somebody sent me a message that I think a lot of people could have written. It went something like this:

“Hey Manny. Anytime I’m about to say something funny, especially around people I don’t know well, there’s a split second where I hear myself thinking, ‘This is dumb,’ or ‘That’s not funny enough,’ and then I just don’t say it. Then someone else says basically the same thing, or something not even as funny, and people laugh. It feels like I’m pre-rejecting myself so no one else gets the chance to do it. I don’t even know whose voice it is. It’s more like a general crowd in my head.”

First of all, this is very common. Especially when you’re just getting started making people laugh on purpose. Everybody has a different comfort level when it comes to blurting out something they find amusing, and almost everybody has some version of that crowd.

But I want to point something out. That crowd is made up. And once you really see that, it starts to lose its grip on you.

The Crowd in Your Head Isn’t Real

Think about what’s actually happening in that split second. You have a funny thought. Before it gets anywhere near your mouth, it goes through a screening process. A panel of judges looks at it and votes. Not funny enough. Too weird. Too much. Somebody might not get it. Rejected.

Here’s the thing. Nobody in the room actually heard the joke. The people you’re with never got a vote. The only people who voted were imaginary.

And that’s why it’s so frustrating when someone else says the same idea and it gets a laugh. It proves the real audience would have been fine with it. Your imaginary audience is just way harsher than any real one you’ll ever face.

I’ve performed in front of a lot of tough rooms. I’ve had drunk crowds, quiet crowds, crowds that clearly came for the headliner and not for me. Not one of them was as mean as the crowd I used to carry around in my own head. Real people are mostly rooting for you. They want to laugh. The made up crowd wants you to stay quiet.

Why We Pre-Reject Ourselves

So why do we do this? Usually it’s protection. If you reject the joke before anybody else can, you never have to feel the sting of it not landing. It feels safer to say nothing than to say something and get a blank stare.

The problem is, that protection costs you a lot. Every time you swallow a funny thought, you’re teaching yourself that your sense of humor is something to hide. You lose the rep. You lose the chance to find out it would have worked. And you lose the connection that comes from sharing what you actually find funny with the people around you.

Over time it becomes a habit. The screening gets faster and stricter until you barely notice it happening. You just feel like “I’m not the funny one.” But you are. You’ve just got a really aggressive panel of judges that nobody hired.

Put a Face on Your Critics

Here’s the exercise I give people, and it’s a fun one. I want you to figure out who these people are.

Have you met them before? Can you put a face on them? Can you describe them? Where do they come from? How long have you known them?

Get specific. Maybe one of them is a teacher who rolled their eyes at you in seventh grade. Maybe one is an older sibling who always said “you’re not funny.” Maybe one is a version of the cool kids from high school, frozen at sixteen, still sitting in the back of your mind with their arms crossed. Maybe one doesn’t look like anyone you know, just a guy in a blazer who looks permanently disappointed.

Write them down. Give them names if you want. Describe what they wear, how they sit, what they say every time you have a funny idea.

The more tangible you make them, the more you’ll start to see that this is all your imagination. You built these people. You cast them, you wrote their lines, you gave them a seat. And honestly, that’s impressive. You’ve got a whole cast of characters living in your head. That’s a comedian’s brain at work. You’re just pointing it in the wrong direction.

Turn Your Critics Into Material

Once you can see your critics clearly, something shifts. They stop being “the truth” and start being characters. And characters are something you can play with.

Next time you hear “this is dumb,” picture the actual critic saying it. The disappointed blazer guy. The eye rolling teacher. It’s a lot harder to take advice seriously from someone you made up, especially when you can see them sitting there with a bad haircut you gave them.

Some of my students have taken this even further and turned their critics into bits. They write a joke about the panel of judges in their head and what they’d say about the joke they’re telling right now. That’s a great move, because now the thing that used to stop you is literally giving you material.

You can also talk back. Not out loud in the middle of a meeting, but in your head. “Thanks, Coach Disappointed, I’ll take it from here.” Then say the thing. It sounds silly, and that’s kind of the point. The more ridiculous the critic gets, the less power it has.

Practice Saying It Anyway

Seeing the critics is step one. Step two is getting reps saying the funny thing anyway.

Start in safe rooms. Friends, family, people who already like you. When you notice the screening process kick in, say the thought anyway and see what happens. Most of the time you’ll get a laugh or at least a smile. Sometimes you won’t, and that’s fine too. Nobody leaves. Life keeps going. You just collected real feedback instead of imaginary feedback.

Keep a little log for a week. Every time you catch yourself pre-rejecting a joke, jot it down. At the end of the week, look at the list. I bet a lot of those would have worked. Some of them might even be good enough to work on as actual material.

Then slowly bring it into new rooms. Coworkers. People you just met. An open mic, if that’s where you’re headed. Each time, you’re proving to yourself that the real crowd is way more generous than the imaginary one.

Your sense of humor is already there. It’s been there the whole time, getting voted down by people who don’t exist. Put a face on them, give them a name, have a little fun with them, and then go say the funny thing.

If you want help quieting your inner critics and getting comfortable being funny out loud, let’s work on it together. Book a session for comedy coaching and we’ll get your funny thoughts out of your head and into the room.