Likely Normal

There’s a special kind of existential dread that comes with typing your email into Have I Been Pwned—that heart-pounding moment when you’re not sure if you’re about to get an all clear or a full audit of how badly the internet has failed you. It’s like a credit report, but instead of telling you your FICO score, it tells you how many times hackers have treated your personal data like a community buffet.

The results are always a rollercoaster. Maybe you’re fine—your email has never been breached, your passwords are secure, and you are, against all odds, a digital fortress. But more likely, you’re greeted with a cheerful “Oh honey…” in the form of 12 data breaches, including that sketchy pizza loyalty app you signed up for in 2014 and immediately forgot about. Suddenly, you’re reliving past mistakes: Why did I ever use “password123” for anything? Why did I trust that free horoscope website with my birthday? Who even WAS I in 2012?

Some of these breaches are so old, they’re practically vintage. Your AOL password from 2003 is out there somewhere, floating around the dark web like a sad little time capsule containing the hopes and dreams of a younger, dumber you. And let’s not forget the corporate lies—“We take your security seriously” always seems to translate to “We stored your credit card info in plain text and then got surprised when hackers took it.”

At this point, Have I Been Pwned isn’t just a website—it’s a therapist. It forces you to confront your digital recklessness, one compromised account at a time. And yet, we keep coming back, like masochists refreshing our doom scroll. “Tell me how bad it is, Troy Hunt. I can take it.” So, have some Christmas cookies and absorb the bad news.  Merry Christmas anyway.