The Karma Button We All Wish Existed

(...But Probably Shouldn’t)

Ever wish there was a karma activation button? You know, one of those big red buttons under glass that you could smash when someone does you dirty—no waiting, just instant cosmic justice delivered in 3-5 business days?

Remember that girl who bullied you in grade school because your complexion was “the shade of soy sauce”? Or the boy who teased you because you weren’t as petite as the girls in his teenage wet dreams? What about the coworker who Frankensteined your ideas into their own Powerpoint presentation, or the ex who cheated but somehow spun the narrative so you’re the villain in their story? And don’t even get me started on family members who treat your bank account like a lending library with no return policy.

We’ve all been there, fantasizing about that magical moment when the universe finally catches up with our enemies or people who treated us unjustly. We imagine some cosmic accountant in the sky pulling up their file and saying, “Oh yeah, this one’s overdue.”

But here’s the thing: that’s not how karma works.

Karma isn’t a vending machine where you insert your grievances and out pops revenge with exact change. It’s not concerned with our timelines, our sense of fairness, or our very reasonable desire to watch people trip on their own shoelaces.

The truth? Karma operates on its own schedule ”a time and season for everything,” as the saying goes. Our job isn’t to be the universe’s collection agency. Our job is to be our authentic selves and actually learn from the experiences that hurt us.

Because life isn’t about sitting around waiting for the world to correct every wrong that’s been done to you. It’s about gaining the wisdom to navigate future storms. That education that hard won knowledge about people, boundaries, and your own worth that’s what makes you a winner, not a loser.

So while that big red “Karma Activated” button would feel satisfying in the moment, the real power is rising above the circumstances, the situation, the person, or the thing that put you through it, with grace, wisdom, and now experience underneath your belt.