There’s always been this conversation about Black women being too “masculine,” too independent, too strong. The word “submissive” gets thrown at us like it’s some gold standard of womanhood that we just refuse to meet. But let’s talk about the facts for a second friend because the reality is, Black women have been put in positions where softness is a luxury that some of us have never seen in the light of day.

Black Women Are the Breadwinners

According to the latest data from the U.S. Department of Labor, Black women are more likely to be the primary or sole earners in their households than women of other races. In 2021, about 80% of Black mothers were the breadwinners in their families, compared to 50% of white mothers. And let’s be real—this isn’t by choice friend.

Black women make more money than Black men on average, with Black women earning around $41,000 annually, while Black men earn about $37,000 on AVERAGE, according to the National Women’s Law Center. But before we start flexing like this is some big win, let’s acknowledge why: systemic barriers to employment, mass incarceration, and economic instability have pushed Black women into leadership roles in the home, whether we wanted them or not.

The Burden of “Having It All”

Even with this financial responsibility, Black women are still expected to maintain traditional gender roles like cooking, cleaning, taking care of the kids, being emotionally available for everyone, and somehow remaining “feminine” while juggling it all. We’re exhausted, and yet, society still demands we smile through it and “be softer.”

But let’s ask the real question: How can we be soft when we’re constantly in survival mode?

How do you submit when you’re the one keeping the ship afloat?

The “Strong Black Woman” Trope: A Blessing and a Curse

We’ve been conditioned to wear strength like armor. And in some ways, it’s necessary. The world isn’t always kind to us. But that same strength often robs us of the softness we deserve. We don’t get the space to break down, to rest, to simply be.

Even in broken homes, 80% of Black children live with their mother because, statistically, she is more equipped to provide. Black women make the sacrifices necessary to ensure our children have stability. So when people question why we “act like men,” they’re ignoring the fact that we’ve had to play both roles for generations.

The Reality of Submission in a Black Woman’s World

Submission, in the way it’s often framed, works when there is security—financial, emotional, and physical. It’s not about “refusing to let a man lead.” It’s about the reality that, in many cases, we have to lead.

And another thing—why is it that when Black women say we want financial stability in a partner, we get called gold diggers? I want my man to get to the bag with me, but within that, I want him to treat me like he doesn’t want me to lift a finger. There’s nothing wrong with desiring both partnership and protection.

So if society truly wants Black women to embrace the “soft life,” maybe it should start with creating the conditions where we don’t have to fight for everything. Where we have safe spaces to lean on our partners. Where we don’t have to be both the nurturer, the protector, the homemaker, and the ass shaker.

Until then, don’t ask us why we won’t submit. Ask why we have to fight so hard in the first place.

Xoxo, Drea

Only thing that’s saving you…