There’s been a rise in conversations around “Black Love,” and truthfully, it often feels like we struggle to stay united. When I see an Instagram page highlighting interracial couples, I don’t feel the need to follow it just to spread hate or start drama because my views are different. It feels like, every time something meaningful emerges in the black community, we get pushback. Sometimes from outsiders, but way too often, the division comes from within. We’re quick to criticize the very things meant to bring us together.
Remember when “Black Lives Matter” first took off? Some people twisted it into something negative, claiming it meant that black lives were more important. When in reality, the message was simple: we matter too. Same goes for “Black love.” It’s about recognition, unity, and the strength that comes from embracing our own.
Love has no limits. It shows up in every culture, every background, and every connection. Saying “Black love” is not about excluding anyone, it’s about highlighting that our love is seen and valued. It’s how we remind people that Black folks love deeply too. We do it in our own way through affection, support, honesty, and understanding. It's a term used to celebrate us and the bonds we build with each other.
Back in 1993, community organizer Ayo Handy-Kendi introduced the term “Black Love.” Inspired by Spike Lee’s Malcolm X, she created “Black Love Day.” It was meant to be celebrated on February 13th, just before Valentine’s Day, as a way to bring the community together and celebrate us. In a New York Times quote, she said:
“Black Love Day gives us that chance to bond and reconnect around who we really are as a people… Not only to be proud of our accomplishments, but to be unapologetically Black and feel good about that.”
Each day, we see heartfelt displays of love in our communities, through cherished TV shows and movies, on our social media feeds, and within the pages of our favorite books. Yet, time and again, the most celebrated love stories overlook the experiences of black individuals. Back in the day, we did see some representation of Black families, but too often, it was heavy with stereotypes or confined us to struggle narratives. Still, it was meaningful to see individuals who looked like us.
In today's world, however, the representation of Black couples is noticeably limited. While we are offered roles and love stories, they frequently feature Black individuals paired with non-Black partners, like Black women with white men or Black men with White women. To ensure that we were included and we’re properly represented, we took it upon ourselves to carve out a space where we always belonged.
Around 2015, we adopted the hashtag #BlackLove to affirm our value. It wasn't created to separate, but to be seen. It allowed us to showcase loving, successful relationships and challenge the narrative that such bonds don't exist within our community. We too come from stable & nurturing homes. We too have, two parents households and strong male figures. Our community is filled with educated individuals and families building generational wealth and legacies.
Black love has always existed, but like many other trends in this new decade, it has gained significant attention. Over the years, individuals from various backgrounds within the Black community began to share their experiences, highlighting the journeys they undertake to build and nurture their relationships. This movement instilled hope and inspired many to seek their own version of “black love.”
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In 2017, the OWN Network teamed up with Black Love Inc. to launch a show that highlighted couples who represented the heart of “Black love.” The series gave a real look into love, marriage, and relationships in the black community. Celebrating the highs, addressing the lows, and everything in between. It featured couples like Meagan Good and DeVon Franklin, Tia Mowry and Cory Hardrict, and Remy Ma and Papoose. These pairs were looked up to as "relationship goals."
Social media has a way of putting celebrities on pedestals, often expecting them to be perfect examples of how to live and love. That’s a lot of pressure. They're human, but they don’t always get the space to be real or vulnerable, especially when so many people are watching and rooting for them.
Since then, all three couples named above, have gone their separate ways, and their breakups hit hard for a lot of people. Every time a well-known black couple splits, it feels like hope fades a little. Folks start picking sides, guessing what went wrong, and clinging to the few couples still standing. In today’s world, we tend to tie our beliefs to people and when they fall short, it can feel like the whole idea falls apart too. Breakups like these have stirred up new questions: What does “Black love” really mean? Is it still something we believe in, or just something we wanted to believe?
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The idea of "Black love" feels like it’s losing its real meaning. Some Black men and women see the term as a way to criticize their choices in dating outside the race. But having a non-Black partner doesn’t erase your worth or your identity as a Black person. The term is meant to celebrate and honor the richness of relationships within the community, not shame those who choose otherwise.
At the same time, there is tension when successful Black people end up with non-Black partners. That reaction is rooted in more than just preference. It comes from a sense of being overlooked, like our own people are only desirable once someone has “made it.” That feeling is valid, even if it shows up as contradictory or resentment. With the dating pool already limited, it hurts when someone makes it out but doesn’t bring that love home. Especially if they later turn back to the community for support, when things go sour.
We say we value inclusivity, and I think we do. Still, it often feels conditional, like love is only given when certain boxes are checked. This is why seeing Black couples succeed publicly is powerful. It’s not just about pride, it’s about visibility. Representation continues to matter.
On the flip side, whenever a new couple is featured on blogs, they quickly become objects of admiration, with fans proclaiming they "better not break up" as if their happiness is our own personal investment. Many couples who may not serve as ideal role models are being presented to us as the new benchmark for relationships. Meanwhile, established couples who were once idealized are now subjected to scrutiny and mockery for the challenges they are facing in their relationships or personal lives.
We’re in a new era, with more access to information, experiences, and platforms. Social media has made conversations more raw, more honest, and sometimes more painful. Comments like “Black men always cheat,” “marriage doesn’t mean anything,” or “our grandparents weren’t any better” flood the timeline. It seems many are arriving at the viewpoint that the significance of commitment in relationships, doesn’t carry the same weight as it once did.
Of course, marriage isn't the end-all-be-all! Many successful couples opt out of marriage altogether. Their love and commitment can be just as strong, if not stronger, than those who choose to say “I do.” However, these days, it feels like some men are more willing to create broken homes than build solid ones. While some women seem more content with being moms or girlfriends than wives. I’m not here to push the traditional mold. I don’t think a ring defines worth. But let’s not pretend that single parenthood is the goal. We shouldn’t glamorize the struggle just because we’ve learned how to survive it.
So why is there fear around marriage but not around raising kids, living together, and spending years building something temporary? That’s real commitment too.
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Our grandparents had their own set of problems. Many stayed through infidelity, emotional absence, or just plain survival. Some endured segregation, working tirelessly to create something from nothing and traditional gender roles shaped their experiences. Men were taught to provide, while women were taught to endure. Love, for many, meant sacrifice. Some stayed out of fear. Others stayed out of loyalty, or because they didn’t see another option. Their love was flawed, but it was also foundational and we carry both the trauma and the tradition with us today.
That said, I absolutely do not endorse or celebrate individuals who choose to stay in unhealthy relationships. But, I do admire those who weathered storms and somehow maintained their love against all odds. I also respect those who chose to part ways and found new love, even if it looks different from what we traditionally anticipate.
Now, some say that "Black love" doesn’t deserve its own label. Due to the perceptions that Black men often don’t respect Black women or fail to meet their needs. Some people believe that Black men have a reputation for being violent, unfaithful, and bringing little to a relationship, leaving behind heartache and pain. On the flip side, there are arguments claiming that Black women lack standards, can be overwhelming to deal with, want to rely on men for support, and struggle to be anything beyond a “strong Black woman.” These are just a few of the negative stereotypes I’ve encountered.
That’s why representation is so key. Because when you’re hurting or haven't seen any examples, it’s easy to believe the worst. But one failed relationship or one person's bad actions, doesn’t speak for an entire community.
I came across someone recently who said that “Black love” is a scam. Like it’s some kind of trick or something you can buy. To me, “Black love” simply means two Black people choosing to love and support one another. It's about connection, respect, and shared experiences.
Black Love is more than just romance. It’s about how we support each other, care for our families, show up for our friends, and love ourselves. It’s in our shared experiences, our culture, and the way we lift each other up.
It’s time we move past our differences and the need to constantly prove our perspectives. Instead, let’s focus on embracing and uplifting one another. Choosing to date within the Black community is just as valid as choosing to date outside of it. There’s no need for harsh judgment or dismissing the value of a Black partner. Everyone has the right to choose who they share their life with. At the end of the day, what matters most is being loved by someone who genuinely loves and respects you.
