The Performance of Black Manhood

Man, it’s weird how much we police each other. Not even in a direct, confrontational way – more like this constant low hum of pressure to *be* something, to perform a version of Black manhood that feels increasingly detached from...well, anything real. I been thinking about it a lot lately. The grind felt different for so long, but what shifted wasn't the work itself. It was the feeling around it. This idea of what I was supposed to be *while* I did it.

I remember scrolling through TikTok a while back and seeing this trend, like guys doing these elaborate “goodnight” routines – skincare, affirmations, all of it meticulously documented and presented for consumption. On one level, taking care of yourself is great. Ain't nothing wrong with that. But the whole *presentation* felt…off. Like it was less about genuine self-care and more about ticking a box on some unspoken list of how to be a “modern” Black man – sensitive, vulnerable, but in a way that doesn’t actually feel vulnerable. It feels manufactured.

And it's not just the TikTok stuff. There’s this whole culture of arbitrary refinement popping up. I read something once about dudes drinking white wine and suddenly needing to have an opinion on tannins and terroir. Like, good for you, enjoy your drink, but why does that have to be a *statement*? It felt like some dude trying to signal he’s “evolved.” You evolve by being genuinely better, not by having a sophisticated palate.

It reminds me of another clip I saw – this birthday cake thing where a group of Black men were debating the proper way to cut a cake, and it just escalated into this ridiculous argument about tradition and respect. It was hilarious, but also a little sad. This intense need to adhere to these rigid rules, even when they’re completely arbitrary and easily mocked. Where does that come from?

I think a lot of it stems from this deep-seated fear – the fear of not being seen as “manly enough.” The pressure is relentless. It's there in the expectations, in the microaggressions, in the way we’re constantly judged on our emotional expression. You gotta be strong, you gotta be stoic, you gotta provide… and God forbid you show any weakness or uncertainty.

There's a different energy I see with queer guys sometimes. They just *are*. There’s this freedom to express themselves, to embrace vulnerability, to reject these prescribed roles without fear of judgment. Maybe it’s because they actively chose that liberation. Maybe it's because the system never really had a place for them in the first place, so conforming feels pointless. It makes you think about how much energy we waste trying to fit into boxes built by people who don't even understand us.

I was making beats recently and feeling frustrated. This beat just wasn’t hitting right, and I started getting caught up in this whole thing – questioning my talent, my direction, everything. My doubt felt like a tangible weight. But then I remembered that six hundred dollar placement back in September. It wasn't about the money; it was the validation. That small crack of light saying "keep going." The authenticity is always more powerful than the performance.

It’s a process, though. Unlearning these things takes time and conscious effort. But I'm starting to realize that true strength isn't about adhering to some manufactured ideal. It’s about showing up as your whole self – flaws, uncertainties, and all. And sometimes, it’s just about enjoying a glass of wine without feeling the need to explain yourself to anyone.