In the fifteen years I have been teaching, I have never had a student named Cara. This semester I have two in one class (okay, one of the Caras is actually Kara, but she pronounces it the same way so that's close enough). Apart from teaching, I have met very few Caras. There just aren't that many of us out there.
Despite suffering a lifetime of mispronunciations and mistakes (Carol, Karen, Carla, Clara, Tara), I've always liked my name. It's different enough to be memorable (especially when compared to the dozens of Jennifers, Amys, and Heathers I went to school with in the seventies). One Cara I met a few years ago when I gave a talk at the FDR Library told me she was named after a minor character in the novel Brideshead Revisited. I read the book years ago, but have no memory of that Cara; my mother claims no knowledge of her, either. The standard finnfam story has it that there were two name options for me if I was a girl and my brothers argued that the other option was too girly. So Cara it was. Still doesn't explain how they came up with Cara in the first place, but that keeps it mysterious. And anyone who knows me knows I love being mysterious.