The Laughter That Held Me Together
(Why Bert Kreischer Will Always Be My Favorite)
There are moments in life where you don’t need advice.
You don’t need answers.
You don’t even need hope yet.
You just need to laugh so you can breathe again.
For me, that laughter came from Bert Kreischer.
Over the past year and a half, during one of the most painful, disorienting, and transformative seasons of my life, his stand-up became a lifeline. When I felt lost. When I felt hurt. When the weight of everything sat heavy on my chest and I didn’t recognize my own life anymore—I would put on one of his specials and just melt into laughter.
Not the polite kind.
The uncontrollable, tears-running, stomach-hurting kind.
And for a little while, the pain loosened its grip.
There’s something powerful about laughter when you’re surviving. It doesn’t erase what you’re going through—but it reminds you that joy still lives in your body. That you are still here. That you can still feel something other than heartbreak, fear, or exhaustion.
Bert’s humor is chaotic, raw, ridiculous, and completely unapologetic. And somehow, in all that madness, there’s comfort. It’s the kind of comedy that doesn’t pretend life is neat or graceful. It’s messy. It’s loud. It’s flawed. And that felt incredibly familiar to me.
On nights when everything felt too quiet and my thoughts were too loud, his stand-up filled the space. It kept me company. It reminded me that laughter doesn’t mean you aren’t hurting—it means you’re human.
Now, on February 7th, Ryan and I are going to see him live in Boston—and it feels symbolic in a way that’s hard to explain. A full-circle moment. From watching stand-up alone while piecing myself back together, to sitting in a crowd, laughing freely, beside someone who knows my story and loves me through it.
This show isn’t just a night out.
It’s a celebration of how far I’ve come.
Of the version of me who survived by laughing when crying felt endless.
Of the healing that happened quietly, one joke at a time.
So here’s to laughter.
To comedy that carries you when you don’t feel strong.
To finding light in the middle of the mess.
And to the reminder that sometimes, the thing that saves you… is just laughing until you can breathe again
