Who are you, really?
It’s difficult having the name Karen lately, I’m guessing you can figure out why.
When people use the name as an insult, I mostly ignore it. But when a social media post is specifically from someone touting how kind and compassionate and pro this and that they are, that just ticks too many of my boxes.
This recently happened on threads, a post about how humanitarian, caring, empathetic and the opposite of Karen’s (yes, they used an apostrophe for a plural, so clearly a brain surgeon) this person claims to be. I responded that using a name that many good people share as an insult is not caring and empathetic, it’s bullying.
And wow, did I get bashed. People responded telling me to stfu, that I should go cry somewhere else, that I’m the reason the name Karen is used that way . . .
So, if this is humanitarian, caring, empathetic, and compassionate, I wonder what cruel and hateful looks like to these people (all of whom I blocked, of course).
Maybe I should share this with them:
And who I am. Really.
Hubs had some work he needed to get done, and as well as a few things I’d put on his list that needed done around the house.
I had a load of laundry to do, dishwasher to run, dinner to prep, and grocery list to finish.
We both got our lists completed and were finally settling down to watch TV, this night there was another Celtics game on and we were looking forward to watching.
But 2 minutes in, and there was a problem.
Me: I’m not going to be able to watch this game.
Hubs: What? We’ve been looking forward to this all day.
Me: I know.
Hubs: So what do you mean you can’t watch.
Me: Did you see White?
Hubs: Yeah, I saw him, he’s a starter.
Me: But did you see the back of his shirt?
Hubs: The back of his shirt?
Me: Yes, his tag is sticking up out of the back of his shirt. And that’s just going to drive me nuts.
Hubs (rolling his eyes): You’re kidding, right?
Oh, how I wish I were.
