Black Men Can Be Insecure, Too.

Have you ever heard a song that just absolutely gutted you? A song that pushed you into some deep reflection? A song where the words were so raw and uncut it made you shed a tear?

I’ve heard my fair share of heartbreak and love songs. I mean… everyone has. Everyone can sing about heartbreak. Everyone can sing about love. But, true talent lies in an artist’s ability to evoke some kind of emotion in you with their words and their voice. That’s how I feel about Donny Hathaway.

Being an old soul, most times I find comfort in music from back then. There’s this distinct version of vulnerability and yearning that was present in the R&B/soul music that remains absent in present day. As I was journaling, with YouTube on shuffle, Donny’s ‘I Love You More Than You’ll Ever Know’ comes on. Being an adult with more lived experiences, I heard the song from a different perspective compared to little me.

In the song, Donny confesses his love for a woman, but also acknowledges that he has this fear of hurting her due to his own flaws, shortcomings, and imperfections. He essentially strips himself naked and admits that he doesn’t see his worth. There’s this fear he has of failing this woman who he obviously looks at with high regard and evident passion. But I think what sticks out most to me is his self-awareness and his ability to articulate what he is feeling, hate it or love it. Another aspect of this record that stuck out was his admittance to needing reassurance.

He starts the song off with, “If I ever leave you, baby, you can say I told you so/ And if I ever hurt you, you know I hurt myself as well,” almost as if he’s setting the tone for the dynamic. He’s already knowing it’ll end before it gets anywhere because of his own insecurities and traits. It’s like he knows how it’s going to play out, hinting at a pattern of relationships that preemptively end before they even start. As we get to the chorus, he tells his lady, “Is that anyway for a man to carry on?/ Do you think I want my loved one gone?/ Said I love you/ More than you'll ever know/ More than you'll ever know.”

There’s this acknowledgment of the fact that his actions are unacceptable and makes him feel pathetic as a man. He acknowledges that his behavior is nonsensical and hurtful, but he himself doesn’t even understand why he behaves in this way. He is unable to get to the root of what causes it, but he knows what his core issues are. Though his actions are extremely harmful and do not reflect how he truly feels inside, he repeatedly expresses his endless love for this woman. These patterns are not intentional, but he’s tasked with learning where they come from in order to open himself up to love.

We get to the second verse, and this is where I really started thinking about the way men are socially conditioned to show up in love. “When I wasn't making much money/ You know where my paycheck went/ You know I brought it all home to you, baby/And I never spent a red cent.”

What he’s asking for is some form of acknowledgment that his tangible actions are enough. He’s showing up in the typical provider archetype: paying bills, putting food on the table, and performing acts of service. Plenty of Black men find their worth in relationships through resources, finances, and how much they can be of service to their partners. And women have also been socially conditioned to believe that this is proof of love, rather than taking a step back and seeing just how harmful this can be not only for them, but Black men as well. Since many Black women fail to look at relationship dynamics from this perspective, there are Black men who sit in relationships where they are not challenged by these women, due to their financial contributions and provider roles. So naturally, when they come across women who desire more than that— it is a complete shift for them, as they are used to the tangible being sufficient. In their eyes, money, trips, gifts, and helping out should be enough. The idea of emotional connection and deep intimacy/vulnerability has never been a forethought in their brains, because as a society and as a community, we do not see Black men outside of what they can do for us, both sexually and financially. It’s a pattern I see a lot.

Made me think of a video I seen of Dr. Raquel Martin and Professor Odi, where they highlighted this:

I think this is why a lot of men show up in dating wearing a mask. This isn’t always intentional on their end. In fact, it is totally subconscious at times. They wow women with what they can provide and choose to show up in a way that reflects a woman’s ‘dream man.’ Why is this? They want to sweep women off their feet and impress them with their luxury, status, and what they can offer her on a tangible level, as a way to distract women from who they REALLY are beneath all of that, because deep down they don’t even love who they are. Now, most times— women are flattered by this illusion and fail to see through it, perhaps because they are also avoiding themselves. But every now and then, a man comes across a woman that reads right through him, unimpressed by what typically wows women. And that? It scares these men. Because now you’re forcing them to face themselves. Being in the presence of a woman who has done that soul work, can make a man feel unworthy in her presence, even if she sees his light. Most times, these women are catalysts to these men’s own personal awakenings.

A homeboy of mine recently confessed to me that I was one of the most emotionally intelligent Black women he came across. Shocked (because I know plenty of us exist), I couldn’t believe it, but I also understood. I see a lot of commentary online where Black women are calling Black men ‘gay’ or ‘sassy’ for establishing boundaries, wanting to be around their friends, expressing their emotions, or also wanting to be mutually desired. I’ve always called this behavior out. To me, it’s what I call ‘diet homophobia.’ We, as Black women, want men to show up and be available, yet we (myself included sometimes, because I’m not perfect), fail to make them feel comfortable in doing so when we engage in this harmful behavior.

You’re wondering why Black men don’t open up… well, why don’t you take a step back and look at some of our collective behavior as Black women? It’s why they often opt to just show their love through the errands they can help you run, the resources they can provide to you, the money they can splurge on you. A lot of Black men are not seeing their humanity outside of luxury items, accolades, and tangible indicators of success. They are conditioned to continuously strive for material, while sidestepping their emotions and personal development. They hustle and grind and work themselves to death to prove their worthiness, entering their 30s and realizing they know nothing about themselves. They come to this realization that they feel lonely because they’ve prioritized superficial, surface level connections that fail to transcend the physical.

The interesting part of this song is that Donny is begging for his partner to at least see his manhood as a provider, stemming from his awareness that he’s failing to show up in a way that is deep and meaningful. He’s failing at matching her vulnerability, not because he doesn’t want to, but because it is a territory that is unfamiliar for him. Maybe this woman is a mirror, forcing him to see his shortcomings. Maybe he’s already known he fails in the emotional department, but is feeling this intense shame because of his lack. Either way, he’s pleading for his partner to see the God in him as he figures it all out.

I think the heart and the soul of the song would be the bridge: “I'm not trying to be/Just any kind of man, no, no, I ain't/I'm just trying to bе somebody/You can love, trust and understand, yеs, I am/I know I know I know that I can be, I can be/A part of you that no one else could see, yeah/But I got to hear you say/I got hear you say it's alright.”

What he asks for is validation that his partner will allow him to figure these things out and the space to show up as his authentic self in order to feel secure in the connection. He acknowledges that this caliber of a woman deserves a man who can match her depth, intensity, and nurturance. Essentially, he wants to be that man because he knows he has that potential. Yet, it’s a journey. There’s a nakedness he exposes here when we take into context the way in which men are programmed to communicate and show up. Donny sees her worth and value, desiring to offer this woman something unique and special. In her presence, he feels like a failure. But what he’s hoping for is humanization, instead of idealization. He’s yearning for acceptance, forgiveness, and her reassurance. He’s yearning for recognition that his efforts are not going unnoticed and that she will love him for the raw, uncut him. These requests aren’t for ego boosts, no— but rather confirmation that she sees his value as he learns to open himself up to true vulnerability. The validation from his partner will give him the confidence to establish a secure and grounded relationship, perhaps hinting at some kind of emotional dependency.

The beauty of this record is that it captures his demons, anxieties, and fears— forcing us into a glimpse inside the head of a person who wants commitment, yet fears it. The song mirrors the oscillating feelings one goes through as they’re trying to understand their behavior. As much as it doesn’t make sense to others, it doesn’t make sense to them either.

Thoughts of the patriarchy permeated my brain, per usual. A series of thoughts popped off in my head, landing me in a space where I deeply thought about how it deprives us of our ability to see men in their entirety. It deprives us of our ability to humanize men and to look at their behaviors on a spectrum. I’ve seen so many dating takes about TikTok’s about male behavior.

“If he doesn’t do this, that or the third— he doesn’t like you.”

“If he reacts like this, this should tell you everything you need to know"

“If he wanted to, he would.”

When it comes to male behavior, it’s like there’s almost zero space to explore the nuance or complexities of it. Why? Because the patriarchy does not place an emphasis on men being emotional creatures with fears, insecurities, and self esteem issues. We’ve placed so much of an emphasis on leadership and provider energy on men, that it’s almost laughable to some women when other women choose to dig deeper and see some of the behavior as a reflection of their own inner issues or something deeper at play. While no, I’m not excusing harmful behavior or encouraging endless unconditional love and forgiveness towards men who mistreat us, I just aim to open a conversation about the complexities of Black men and their behavior.

There has always been a space for women to talk about their fears of commitment, vulnerability, and connection in relationships. We often see women consoling other women because of this and allowing them the platforms to speak about it. We let them cry. We let them vent. Yet when it comes to men, it’s always clean and cut, “He just don’t like you.” The older I get, I’ve realized time and time again, that men often have the same damn fears as us. They can also be just as delusional as us. They can feel just as inadequate as us. They can equally suffer from low self-esteem. They also have triggers. They also feel like they are not enough. It is not just women who are experiencing these feelings. Yet we as women never even think to entertain this idea, because we are programmed to think that men are all super confident in their looks, capabilities, and drive. Men are also socially conditioned to not speak out about these things because of how the world (and other men) will perceive them. Their masculinity will be questioned, rather than explored.

Why do we, as Black women do that? Why do we deprive Black men of their humanity? Why are we only seeing them as figures of service and leadership and only that?

Are we truly SEEING Black men?