The mighty Karen tells her tale

Illustration of a closed envelope, with the text, “Confessionals”
ILLUSTRATION: Marissa Ouyang /The Peak

Written by Lubaba Mahmud, Staff Writer

I don’t know if you’re ready for my confession, SFU. Frankly, I don’t know if I am ready. But it’s time you know just who walks amongst you, ready to harass yet another UniverCity employee; it’s time you understand how truly powerful I am.I’m Karen — the FIRST Karen. That’s right: I’m immortal. 

When I was first placed on Earth, I was obviously not impressed. Who would be? Starbucks, Pinterest, and Target didn’t exist yet. There was just one other person created at this point — I guess his name was Adam or something, and he was the epitome of boredom. So naturally, I asked for the Earth’s manager: God.

Boy, did He take a long time to get back to me, and He wasn’t much help initially, either. He told me it was my duty to serve Adam . . . As if I, the great Karen, would bow down to anyone. I was already beginning to mentally draft a customer service complaint, but later decided not to, because we struck a deal of a lifetime.

You see, after one look at Adam, I figured out that humanity would be doomed if I didn’t take matters into my own hands. I couldn’t let everyone turn into kind (ugh), selfless (SNOOZE), management-fearing people. So I pretended to fall in love with him, and after we had a couple of kids, I divorced him. He cried on God’s shoulders and kept saying, “Karen took the kids.” 

God had mercy on him for some reason, and asked me to come back to Adam, as if I too had no self-esteem. I gave Him the idea of creating another “first woman” on Earth — that way, no one in the future would have to know that the very first man on Earth failed to do the only job he had. I mean, it would be pretty embarrassing for everyone to know that God’s first creation was a total loser. I promised never to tell anyone about this secret deal, as long as I got to run away and raise Karen II and Karen III on my own. 

Since then, I’ve been working hard to set our bloodline apart from everyone else, like the Adams and Eves traipsing around. Century after century, I’ve guided my children, the long lineage of Karens. Thanks to me, every generation has known how to spark controversy, has known how to survive the collapse of a multi-level marketing scheme and start fresh. Harsh blonde angular hairstyles and “live, love, laugh” decor would never have been done right without my input, would they now?

I guess I’m breaking my secret deal with God by writing this public confessional. But VVVIPs like me don’t give a damn. SFU, the true Karen has finally #Snapped.

I’ve successfully sent Karens to every corner of the world. Maybe our anti-vax campaign has slowed down our expanding empire a little, but hey, I’ve helped to elect a male Karen as the US president, so, you know, quality over quantity. My job here is done. And as I finally rest after this eternity of shaping the future, slipping into the Bed Bath & Beyond cotton set I haggled out of a rude, entitled young cashier last Thursday, my young Karens will continue my legacy.

And they’ll be coming for you too, SFU.


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