I'm Karen and the internet broke my name

This article originally published on Mamamia.

Hi, I’m Karen.

Yes, that really is my name. And before you start with the jokes – trust me, I’ve heard them all.

I hesitate every time someone asks my name. There’s a split second of dread before I answer, wondering if they’ll smirk, make a joke or launch into some story about their own encounter with “a Karen.” This is what my life has become, and I’m not alone.

Imagine waking up one day and discovering your name has become the internet’s favourite insult. Not because of anything you did personally, but because someone decided your completely normal name was the perfect stand-in for every entitled person on the planet.

That’s been my life for the past few years. There are Facebook groups with thousands of actual human beings named Karen who are just trying to exist without becoming someone’s punchline (though there are far more groups dedicated to ridiculing us). One member of the group I’m part of has even changed her name legally, just so she will never be “a Karen” again.

When your name becomes so toxic that a legal name change feel like an appropriate solution, could we maybe, possibly, have gone too far with the joke?

We’re not even the problem. You remember the women in those viral videos that made “Karen” a thing? Well, their names weren’t actually Karen. The mask-refusing woman at Bunnings who became Australia’s poster child for entitled behaviour? She was named Lizzy Rose. The lady who called the police on the bird-watcher in Central Park? Amy Cooper.

So internet warriors took random incidents of bad behaviour by people with completely different names and decided, “You know what? Let’s just call all entitled women Karen from now on.” And somehow that seemed reasonable to everyone.

It’s like being blamed for someone else’s car accident simply because you drive the same colour car. Except that blame follows you everywhere. It follows you to work meetings, while you’re scrolling online, to dinner reservations.

It makes zero sense, but here we are.

Merriam-Webster has officially added “Karen” as a word, defining it as “an insulting term for a privileged, indignant, or discriminatory woman”.

I know what some people are thinking: “It’s just a word, get over it.” But what if your name became the shorthand for terrible behaviour? If you introduced yourself and watched people’s expressions change, saw them mentally categorise you before you’ve even said a word, let alone gotten to know you. Try to make a comment on any online post these days and the responses come fast: “OK Karen,” “Found the Karen!” “Of course YOU would say that”. It’s bullying wrapped in comedy, which somehow makes it socially acceptable.

I know five Karens in my day-to-day life.They are the least “Karen-like” people you’d ever meet. They volunteer. They are the first to help others. They are quietly spoken. But somehow, we’re all lumped together with this caricature of an angry woman demanding to speak to managers. The stereotype is so strong that people seem genuinely surprised when they meet a Karen who is, you know, a normal human being.

I’m not writing this because I want pity or because I think being named Karen is the greatest injustice. I’m well aware there are plenty of worse things happening in the world. I’m writing this because behind every “Karen” joke is a real person who didn’t sign up to be your cultural punching bag.

We have jobs, families and feelings just like you. Some of us are shy. Some are outgoing. Some have strong opinions, some prefer to stay quiet. A Karen slur is intellectually lazy and emotionally cruel. Plus, I’m calling it – there’s definitely a gender issue here. Men being assertive are seen as strong leaders. Women doing the same thing? They’re Karens.

The next time you’re about to drop a “Karen” reference, maybe just... don’t? I’m sure you’re smart enough to find another way to describe bad behaviour that doesn’t drag innocent people into your point.

It’s really not that hard.

I’m writing this knowing full well what the comments will look like, if I’m brave enough to read them (I definitely won’t). The irony isn’t lost on me. I’m proving my very own point by being afraid to attach my name to an article about how my name has been turned into a cultural slur (but I’ll do it anyway). Because when someone can’t even sign their own name to their own thoughts without fear of harassment, we’ve crossed a line. We’ve let internet culture override basic empathy, and it’s time to find our way back.

To my fellow Karens reading this: you’re not alone, your feelings are valid and you deserve better than to be someone else’s punchline. We didn’t choose this weird cultural moment, but we don’t have to let it define us either.

To everyone else: maybe it’s time to retire this particular joke. It was never as funny as you thought it was, and the real people bearing the cost have had enough.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go do some very un-Karen-like things. Like quietly going about my day without demanding to speak to anyone’s manager.