Where Is the Love? The Rise of Superficiality in the Black Community
Love real love has always been the heartbeat of the Black community. It showed up in family cookouts, Sunday morning church hugs, and in the way elders looked out for neighborhood kids. It was in the quiet sacrifices, the unspoken solidarity, and the knowing nods that said, “I see you.” But somewhere along the way, that deep-rooted love has started to feel like it’s fading, being replaced by surface-level validations—likes, designer labels, status, and a constant chase for clout.
We’ve traded in “I got you” for “what can you do for me?”
We’re measuring worth by material things, not character.
We’re shouting “love wins” while ghosting accountability and healing.
The Currency of Clout
In a culture that has often been denied access to wealth, luxury, and social mobility, it’s understandable that material success is celebrated. But when success becomes the only language we speak, love becomes a second-class citizen. Now, instead of honoring the love of a partner who’s building with us, we’re chasing someone who looks good next to us in photos. Instead of valuing community support, we’re in silent competition with each other.
We’ve mistaken visibility for value. And while there’s nothing wrong with wanting nice things or shining bright, the danger comes when we start believing that’s all we are—or all we need.
Performing Love, Not Living It
Social media plays its part. We post “Black Love” photoshoots, but don’t talk about the therapy, the patience, the forgiveness it takes to make that love last. We celebrate Black excellence in aesthetics, but shy away from the messy, unfiltered, healing conversations we need.
We’ve created a highlight reel, but where’s the documentary?
What Love Used to Look Like
Love in our community used to be a mother braiding her daughter’s hair while sharing wisdom. A brother walking his sister home after school. Grandparents holding hands after 40 years. Neighbors who acted like family. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. It was protective. It was rooted in survival and spiritual connection.
We didn’t need matching outfits to prove it. We just needed each other.
The Way Back to Love
This isn’t a call to reject beauty, fashion, or ambition. It’s a call to remember what matters most. We need to return to love—not just romantic love, but self-love, community love, cultural love. Love that holds you accountable. Love that nurtures. Love that heals.
Let’s stop performing and start feeling.
Let’s stop flexing and start building.
Let’s stop hiding behind filters and start showing up in truth.
Because when we lead with love—unapologetic, honest, sometimes uncomfortable love—we reclaim the richness of our culture, our relationships, and our future.
Love is not lost. We just have to choose it again.
