Karen

 I’m angry. I’m angry that my white mother had a black child and that I was effectively on the frontline of the white vs. black reality. I was a black girl in a white family on Long Island and not once was I ever talked to about race. I didn’t even have black culture to comfort me. My whole “family” were jerks. Nobody even considered what life was really like. NOBODY. I’m angry because I was molested. I’m angry because I was and continue to be emotionally abused. My family did absolutely nothing about it. I’m angry that I had a brain tumor and that I only had 9 years away from family. I’m not a victim but I have good reasons to be angry.

I was raised by a Karen. One time I locked my door and Karen threatened to call the cops. The police can be a threat to black people. Threatening to weaponize the police is extreme. She essentially threatened to have me killed because she wanted a door opened. What kind of crap is that? That’s straight up entitlement. 

Being exposed to a man like Trump really helped me to understand my relationship with my mother. It doesn’t matter if he’s wrong. Trump will double down even on a falsity. Logic doesn’t matter. The only “important” thing is how he feels. He has absolutely no regard to how others are experiencing an event. Karen doesn’t either. I like to say that he suffers from main character syndrome. We’re all just supporting characters in his antics.