I typed in the word “men”, and one of the pages that popped up was “men’s humour.”

Of course it did.
Men and humour. A familiar pairing.

So I got curious.

I tried the same for women.

“Women.”
“Female.”
“Women’s humour.”

Nothing equivalent appeared.

Apparently men’s humour is a recognised thing.
Women’s humour… not so much.

Now, I’m not pretending my little search is a peer-reviewed study on gender and comedy. But it did make me smile the kind of slightly feral smile BOB would approve of.

Because here I am, about to launch a book that is:

• written by a woman,
• about women’s bodies and pleasure,
• with a distinctly irreverent, wry, “are-we-really-still-doing-this?” tone…

…and one of my quiet worries has been:

“Is it okay to be this funny about serious things?”
“Will people think I’m not taking it seriously enough?”
“Is it allowed for a woman talking about her body to be hilarious and deep?”

When I was working more strictly in the healing / therapeutic world, the default voice was:

• calm,
• serious,
• carefully worded,
• very “appropriate”.

Important work.
Sacred work.

But not always much room for the kind of wicked, sideways humour that women actually use with each other when we’re off the record.

BOB changed that.

Why humour, and why now?

BOB — my Battery Operated Boyfriend turned book — landed in my life as a joke first.

He wasn’t a marketing strategy.
He wasn’t a “positioning decision.”
He was that private, slightly naughty grin you share with a friend when you both know exactly what you’re talking about… without saying it outright.

And then I realised:

This is how women survive the unbearable.

We laugh.
We roll our eyes.
We tell stories that are both devastating and ridiculous.

We make jokes about mansplaining and pelvic floors and being “too much” and “not enough” – because if we don’t laugh, something in us turns to stone.

Humour, used well, doesn’t trivialise the pain.
It gives us a way to look at it without being swallowed whole.

That’s why I’ve deliberately let humour lead with BOB.

Not because women’s experiences are funny.
But because the contortions we’ve been asked to live inside are.

The double standards.
The objectification.
The purity rules.
The silent expectations about how “good girls” should behave.

Sometimes the only sane response is a beautifully timed, well-aimed joke.

Men’s humour vs women’s humour

So when Facebook was happy to show me “men’s humour” pages, but not “women’s humour”, something clicked.

We are used to men being the ones telling the jokes.
Men as the comedians, the satirists, the late-night hosts.

Women, on the other hand, are often:

• the butt of the joke,
• the pretty decoration on stage, or
• the one sitting in the audience, laughing along… even when it stings.

We haven’t had nearly as much cultural space for women’s own humour about our bodies, our desire, our fury, our absurd situations – especially past a certain age.

Midlife women with opinions and a punchline?
That’s still unfamiliar territory for many people.

Which is probably why BOB feels like a bit of a divergence for me.

I’m still talking about coherence, sovereignty, healing and the Field.
I’m just doing it with:

• more smirks,
• more eye-rolls,
• more “Did we really just go there?” moments.

Why I’m choosing humour as a woman in midlife

I could have written BOB as a sober book about female sexuality, gender, trauma and body politics.

It might even have been easier in some ways. There’s a template for that.

But my body and my history wouldn’t let me.

I’ve lived too much life.
I’ve heard too many stories.
I’ve sat with too many women whose deepest truths came out only when they were allowed to laugh as well as cry.

Humour, for me, is part of reclaiming subjecthood.

It says:

“I am not just an object to be gazed at, diagnosed, or spoken about.
I get to narrate my own experience.
And sometimes, that narration is going to be very, very funny.”

Humour lets us slip past defences.
It lets us name the thing without becoming the thing.
It gives us a pressure valve so the truth can land without blowing the room apart.

That’s not frivolous.
That’s skilful.

Who I wrote BOB for

I didn’t write BOB for shock value.
I didn’t write it as a how-to manual.

I wrote BOB for the woman who:

• did everything “right” and still feels like something essential went missing,
• has a rich inner world but edits herself in public,
• is tired of being the object of other people’s gaze and is ready to become the origin of her own choices,
• laughs a lot… often so she doesn’t cry.

BOB is the friend who sits next to you on the couch and says,

“You’re not crazy.
It really is that absurd.
And no, it’s not too late to reclaim yourself.”

Humour is simply the language he speaks.

An invitation

So if you notice me being a little more mischievous than usual… that’s deliberate.

It’s my way of saying:

• We can talk about women’s bodies, pleasure and power without whispering.
• We can be serious about the impact while still laughing at the absurdity.
• Women’s humour is not a side category. It’s a vital part of how we heal, connect and refuse to shrink.

And if a book called BOB is what it takes to open that conversation in a way that feels honest and safe enough to enter… I’m absolutely here for that.

If this stirs something in you, you might enjoy meeting BOB properly.

He’s cheeky, loyal, and very much on our side.

BOB – A Not-So-Serious Book About Seriously Important Things launches on 12 December. Everyone who purchases before 31 December will be invited to my live “Beyond the Red Door” Reader Circle in January – a women-centred Zoom gathering to talk honestly (and with humour) about bodies, pleasure and power in midlife.

Apparently “women’s humour” doesn’t have its own category yet.
I’m very happy for us to start making one.

With steadiness and wonder,
Shamarie Flavel | Field Explorer & Mystic Interpreter of Living Patterns

Join me in exploring how energy, awareness, and daily life weave together to create a sanctuary of coherence and calm.
Connect with me on Facebook and Instagram @ShamarieFlavelEnergy,
listen to my podcast Journeys Beyond with Shamarie on Kajabi
or on Apple Podcasts
join our private Facebook community Evolve Courses Group to share and grow together, or explore my courses and offerings at evolvecourses.shamarie.com.au.

Be the first to know when BOB lands in the world (and get launch-only bonuses) – add your name to the BOB waitlist. https://evolvecourses.shamarie.com.au/signup

The post Why I’m Letting Humour Lead (And What That Says About Women’s Voices) appeared first on Shamarie Body and Mind Therapies.