Episode 7: Trapped in a Desperate Struggle, Black Men Only Know How To Be Loyal to Themselves

Don’t mind me while I rant.

How dare I allow myself to be this vulnerable around you.

I have the right to leave behind something that doesn’t serve me. My preferences are my right, too. And what I prefer is safety. And emotional stability.

For generations, we’ve been pillars of strength within our communities. As black women, our cultural need for unity often traps us in emotionally and mentally abusive relationships. Many of us endure physical abuse out of some misplaced loyalty. We fear disappearing from the family group chat, or having people perceive us as selfish or bougie — or worse, a traitor. These fears keep many black women planted firmly in place. Meanwhile, black men escape their cultural traumas by fleeing into any group that will accept them and will often use their newfound sense of belonging to justify not investing their time and achievements into people and places from which they come.

Since most of our men, whether they’re successful or not, are preoccupied with themselves (for example: his needs are valid and rational, while your needs are complaints), black women repeatedly bear the brunt of our culture’s emotional load. We deny ourselves the right to self-preservation and were taught to sacrifice ourselves for the whole. But the ability to protect yourself from people who prey on you is a right, and therefore a must.

The Fear of Cultural Disintegration

Black men have been trying to convince themselves and the world for a long time, now, that they don’t need us. Yet when black women date outside our race, black men react to our relationships in a far more visceral and degrading way. They often lash out at us, verbally and sometimes physically, in an attempt to shame us for the cultural wrong of choosing a non-black partner.

Yet without black women, our community would cease to exist. There would be no more churches, and no more marches for the rights of black people. Fewer doctors, lawyers, teachers, entrepreneurs, and first-line workers to serve our communities. As a group, Black women are highly skilled at connecting people to each other to ensure communal resources can be shared, increased, or multiplied.

For black men, the thought of a black woman abandoning the community and disrupting its “unity” is a paralyzing and triggering thought.

More than any other group, Black men are angry at the modern state of the world, as they feel the least powerful to affect change. Their deep resentment toward their fixed powerlessness is a fatal wound that all black men have.

As black women, our commitment and communal spirit help all black people on this planet to survive. The ease with which we invent new ways to communicate with other black women; and the words we create to express our deepest pain within our cities, villages, suburbs, and digital spaces, safeguard the survival of our race.

Black men want black women (and the world at large) to value them not for what they build or produce, but for plans they never execute and capabilities they seldom put to use. In my experience, black men struggle to articulate their feelings more than most men when it comes to their relationships. Executing on plans and ideas poses a struggle for them, too, since many Black American men have some form of untreated anxiety, depression, or PTSD. Many are not nurtured as boys and grow into emotionally unavailable men. Outside of church (if they’re one of the few black men still regularly attending services), Black men don’t reinvest into their own communities. Perhaps they would reinvest if they didn’t already believe that everyone else’s community is better.

And if you ever trigger a black man to abandon you, the way in which he leaves you will be an especially cruel mind fuck. Then, he’ll point to your devastation as reason why black women deserve to be left behind, leaving them to sustain the communities these black men neglect to build.

Loyalty Versus Self-Preservation

I will no longer waste my energy rationalizing his toxicity. Trying to make sense of it has only robbed me of joy. Instead, I ask the question, “Will this help me or hurt me?” every time I have to do — or feel inclined to do — anything for him.

The world and our men have historically praised us for our ability to withstand tons of this bullshit. Yet this is not a compliment.

Why, as a black woman, are my strength and resilience measured by my ability to endure pain, instead of by my achievements or my courage to seek a better life? Black women who are empowered and healthy are equipped to contribute positively to a healthy community. But black men aren’t eager to empower us; they externalize their problems, which are all attributable to capitalism, racism, and Black women.

True strength lies in recognizing your worth and protecting yourself from harmful relationships. Do you not know your worth, sis? Or do you not know how to protect it?

Black men are always among the first to devalue us and diminish our accomplishments. Removing such destructive men from your life is not a sign of weakness: it’s a sign of self-respect.

Embrace the idea that the odds are in your favor, black women. It may just be that we have to forge strange, new paths and align with a new set of values.