Dear Karen, I See You

A Gift for Mom! 🤍

What a Karen!

It’s a line we’ve all heard and probably said with increasing frequency lately. And I get it. She’s totally being an I-want-the-manager-I’m-right-you’re-uneducated force of nature.

Here’s the thing: I’m a Karen.

So are you.

We all have our Karen-triggering hot buttons.

Don’t believe me? Post something about breastfeeding on social media. Or choose homeschool. Or guns. Or mask wearing. Heck, you could probably post a chicken pot pie recipe and someone you wouldn’t normally consider a Karen will chime in to tell you what’s wrong with it.

RELATED: To the Girl Who Flipped Me Off at Starbucks, Bless Your Sweet Heart

Every one of us has at least one topic we just can’t resist educating others about. Don’t get me started on Dyslexia mitigation in public schools if you don’t want to meet my inner Karen. I do want the manager, and I will be a thorn in his butt. My. Kid. Needs. Help.

Most Karens are sensible women who typically just smile and nod, or keep scrolling. But catch one when the toddler is asking for yet another snack, the teen is across the room exuding snark, and the hubby has just called to say he’s working late. She’s all out of calm for the day and she just read that you are considering turning your tall 2-year-old’s car seat front-facing. Guess who’s coming to dinner?

That’s right. It’s Karen!

The truth is we all have an inner Karen and the current state of our world is wearing down our defenses, making it difficult to keep her restrained.

RELATED: I’ve Never Been Tired Like This Before

So next time you encounter a Karen, instead of shaking your head while feeling superior, how about just giving her a knowing nod?

I see you, Karen.

Sometimes I AM you.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

a Karen being a Karen inner Karen Karen kindness mom life mom shaming Motherhood social media

Magi

Magi likes to throw around the word "farm" when she talks about home. A more accurate description would be a rural half acre, where she and her husband try to grow good kids, good food, and good fun. Her work has been featured at Her View From Home, Project Hot Mess, and The Survival Mom. You can keep up with her adventures at www.halfacreheaven.com and on Facebook.

I’m Constantly Waiting for the Metaphorical Axe To Fall

In: Living

I knew people died. I just didn’t think it applied to us. Mortality met me in grade two with a punch to the gut when my teacher confirmed casually that, yes, everybody dies. What do you mean, everybody dies? I frantically thought, but kept my question to myself. Up until that moment, I had quietly believed my family was exempt from that fate. I thought death was a monster that only took other people and left my family alone. They say all panic has an origin story, and mine began shortly after that realization, fueled by a disconnected phone cord...

Keep Reading

The Apology You Deserve May Never Come

In: Living

“You have to accept that you will likely never get the apology you deserve.” When my therapist said those words, I felt everything at once-anger, resentment, heartbreak. It was as if the air had been pulled straight from my lungs. Because accepting that truth meant letting go of something I had been holding onto for a long time: the hope that one day, it would all be acknowledged. My family was deeply wronged. Not in a way that can be brushed off or easily forgotten, but in a way that cut to the core. There were lies wrapped in deception,...

Keep Reading

To the Little Girl With Pink Flowers on Her Shoes and Courage in Her Heart

In: Living

To the little girl with pink flowers on her white shoes and lacy fold-down socks, down and ready, tee ball glove in hand, teeth marks worn into the top. The Pittsburgh Pirates hat from Uncle Dave, a sign of camaraderie. A part of something bigger than herself. A too-long, locally sponsored t-shirt, tied up with a ponytail. Jean shorts and a belt. The type of ordinary only childhood can be. When ordinary is more than enough. No one can tell in this picture that you were scared. That you didn’t feel ready. That behind that tiny-toothed grin you were holding...

Keep Reading

Keep Searching for the Perfect Pair of Jeans

In: Living

I don’t know about you, but finding a good pair of jeans has always felt like a process to me. These are too tight. Those are too loose. They fit my thighs but bunch at my hips. The dreaded waist gap. Too short—high waters. Too long, and suddenly you can’t find your legs. Before you know it, you’re ordering your fourth pair and eyeing a fifth. A woman on a mission. And still, as I stand there looking in the mirror at everything that doesn’t quite work, I just know there is a perfect pair out there for me. Somewhere....

Keep Reading

Why I Had My Benign Breast Lumps Removed

In: Living

My journey with monitoring benign breast lumps began in July of 2020 when my OB-GYN found a lump. I was sent home with an ultrasound referral. I called immediately after I got home and asked for the soonest appointment at any location. I had a young son, and was absolutely terrified. They got me in at the end of the week. My husband was on vacation that week, and what should have been an enjoyable family time was plagued with worry. At the ultrasound appointment, they saw two small lumps. I was told these were “likely benign” and was given...

Keep Reading

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

In: Grief, Living

Black and white photo of older man in garden

I was never meant to be a plant person. I’m the woman who can kill a succulent on the way home from the store. Once, a fern sighed in my direction and gave up. That is my spiritual gift. My grandpa Dominic would have laughed—hard. He loved to laugh. And sing hymns passionately in Italian. He was an Italian immigrant who lost his arm working in a mill, and still, he woke up every morning and dressed like dignity itself. He shopped for my grandma. He fixed what was broken. And he tended the biggest, happiest garden you’ve ever seen....

Keep Reading

Farewell To the Bus Stop Moms

In: Friendship

It seems like just yesterday I was writing a piece about my last baby going off to kindergarten. I poured my heart out into words about how she was going to find her place in the world, and how I was going to find a new sense of belonging. I wrote, “I was able to find a bit of ‘me’ again. She has barely left my side in almost six years, so her absence is still fresh and foreign. But I know her jubilant little self will be just fine. And just like that, she’s on her way. And so...

Keep Reading

May is Maternal Mental Health Month, and So Many Moms Are Quietly Drowning

In: Living

I’ve given birth to four beautiful boys and lived through four postpartum experiences. Each one has been different, yet there are familiar threads that run through them all. In the first couple of weeks after my first baby was born, I felt carefree…until that bubble was popped. My newborn got sick and was admitted to the PICU at a children’s hospital 30 minutes from our home. At one point, doctors mentioned the possibility of meningitis, but after many tests and a several-day admission, we were sent home. When we were discharged, a doctor left me with these words, “It’s your...

Keep Reading

The Hard Truth about Friendship in Your 40s

In: Friendship

No one can really prepare you for how much friendships change in your 40s. We expect life shifts—kids grow, schedules fill, jobs demand more, and aging parents need us in new ways. Time becomes tighter, priorities change, and naturally, friendships have to adjust. That part makes sense, right? But what doesn’t get talked about enough is the quiet, hard shift, the one where it’s not just time or distance creating friendship gaps, but something deeper. What happens when you look around your “table” and realize it no longer feels like a safe place to land? What happens when you start...

Keep Reading

Sisterhood is So Special

In: Living

There’s something about sisterhood that’s so special. It’s having someone who’s seen every version of you—every awkward, messy, beautiful version—and loves you through it. Someone who holds a piece of your heart in a way nobody else can. Someone who remembers the little things that made you…you. And my sister? She’s that person for me. We couldn’t be more different. She’s extroverted, the life of the party, spontaneous, the more the merrier, always seeing the good in everything. I’m the cautious one, the loner, the guarded one, more comfortable sitting on the sidelines. I’ve always admired her and secretly wished...

Keep Reading

Good Dads Stay When It's Hard and Pray When They're Weak

Fatherhood

Good Dads Stay When It's Hard and Pray When They're Weak

To the Mom Raising the Child Who is Helping Mine

Motherhood

I’m Constantly Waiting for the Metaphorical Axe To Fall

The Apology You Deserve May Never Come

To the Little Girl With Pink Flowers on Her Shoes and Courage in Her Heart

Keep Searching for the Perfect Pair of Jeans

Why I Had My Benign Breast Lumps Removed

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

Farewell To the Bus Stop Moms

May is Maternal Mental Health Month, and So Many Moms Are Quietly Drowning

The Hard Truth about Friendship in Your 40s

Sisterhood is So Special

Get It Now

So God Made a Mother

We all have our Karen-triggering hot buttons.

The truth is we all have an inner Karen and the current state of our world is wearing down our defenses, making it difficult to keep her restrained.

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

I’m Constantly Waiting for the Metaphorical Axe To Fall

The Apology You Deserve May Never Come

To the Little Girl With Pink Flowers on Her Shoes and Courage in Her Heart

Keep Searching for the Perfect Pair of Jeans

Why I Had My Benign Breast Lumps Removed

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

Farewell To the Bus Stop Moms

May is Maternal Mental Health Month, and So Many Moms Are Quietly Drowning

The Hard Truth about Friendship in Your 40s

Sisterhood is So Special

Previous Post

Next Post

You May Also Like