I grew up in a home where lol was dangerous. I had three younger brothers and we all slept in the same room. Most mornings we were locked in the room until my mother or father woke up.
Now 4 kids under the age of 8 in one room is a disaster in the making. We had to do something to amuse ourselves. So we played and talked and learned to lol very quietly.
Our father worked shifts - 2 weeks days, 2 weeks afternoons, and 2 weeks nights. Most days when he was home he was sleeping. And that meant we had to be very quiet and not wake him up. Waking him was a dangerous thing to do. He had a wicked temper and if woken he would come into the room looking for the first target to unleash his rage. Often it was me since I was charged with keeping them all quiet. And our father didn't care where he hit of what he used - anything handy would serve his purpose. Of course then we had to cry silently because crying would also put him into a rage with the frequent question - "You want something to cry about? I'll give you something" and the beating would be worse
We learned to talk, cry, and laugh very quietly so we didn't disturb him.
I remember growing up without knowing how to lol. It always felt faked or put-on. I went through years of practicing what should have been normal. And that in itself was fake. I was well into my 30s and still practicing to find a laugh that I was comfortable with.
I had a couple of friends who laughed with such ease. A real LOL and it was loud. And I thought that was so weird and forced. But because their laughter was so loud it gave me some kind of permission to slowly lol. And over time it came easier and natural.
I can't tell you when it happened. But I do remember one day I realized lol was okay. It was normal and safe.
I no longer have to worry about lol. I no longer lol with fear or practice. I do it with joy and abandon.
And - it feels great