Rethinking Resilience: The Pressure on Black Men & Women to 'Keep It Together’
Mental health is a universal experience, but for Black people in the West, it comes with unique challenges. In a conversation with Ayo from Melanated Minds, accredited psychotherapist Matthew Johnston explores the concerns of Black men and women, the role of faith and therapy, the impact of navigating predominantly white spaces, whether the term “Blackness” serves or limits us, and the hesitations Black couples face when considering therapy
Black Men & The Burden of Being ‘Enough”
For many Black men, the constant pressure to be better looms over them. Matthew explains, “Black men, in particular, struggle with feeling like they’re not the best version of themselves. The world around them tends to remind them of that—sometimes directly, sometimes in ways that are deeply internalized.” Whether it’s in relationships, at work, or in education, Black men often feel the need to prove their worth over and over again.
This pressure is further complicated by the expectation of self-reliance. Seeking help is often seen as weakness, reinforcing a cycle where many Black men struggle in silence. “Even when they are good enough, they interpret the world around them as saying they aren’t,” Matthew adds
Black Women & The Search for Love
For Black women, the dominant concern Matthew observes is figuring out how to be loved. Whether single or in a relationship, many grapple with questions like: Where do I find love? How do I set boundaries? What am I supposed to be as a woman in a relationship? The pressure to meet certain expectations, both personal and cultural, creates uncertainty around commitment and self-worth.
“Many Black women want to be with Black men, but they find it intimidating or difficult,” Matthew notes. Cultural expectations around relationships and gender roles create tension, often making it harder for Black women to balance self-love with the desire to be loved by someone else.
Couples Therapy: A Missing Blueprint?
Couples therapy remains a foreign concept in many Black households, particularly in African and Caribbean cultures. Matthew sees this as a problem, not because Black couples don’t need help, but because they have no roadmap for navigating modern relationships. “The context in which we’re trying to get married and have relationships is completely different from our grandparents’ time. We don’t have a blueprint.”
This lack of guidance leaves many couples struggling with communication, expectations, and emotional baggage. Therapy could provide a space to unpack generational patterns, but without cultural familiarity, many Black couples hesitate to embrace it.
The Psychological Toll of Being ‘The Only Black Person in the Room’
Black people in predominantly white spaces face unique psychological challenges. Matthew describes this experience as “being the lost brother or lost sister.” When you are one of the only Black individuals in a majority-white space, you are forced to respond in one of two ways: either you suppress your Blackness to blend in, or you lean into the stereotypes projected onto you.
“Some Black people try to erase their cultural identity to be seen as just another person. Others take the opposite approach—they become the ‘intimidating’ Black man or the ‘loud’ Black woman because that’s what’s expected of them,” Matthew explains.
Neither approach is ideal. Suppressing one’s identity leads to shame and isolation, while embracing stereotypes can become a self-fulfilling prophecy that is hard to sustain. “It’s a complicated situation to navigate, and most people don’t even realize they’re doing it,” he adds.
Faith vs. Therapy: Why They Don’t Always Align
Faith plays a huge role in Black communities, but it sometimes clashes with the idea of therapy. Matthew acknowledges that many people are raised in religious households where mental health struggles are seen as a test of faith rather than an issue requiring professional help.
“There’s an idea that if you just pray hard enough, things will get better. While faith can be powerful, it doesn’t mean therapy isn’t needed too,” Matthew says. He stresses that the two can coexist—seeking therapy doesn’t mean abandoning faith, but rather enhancing one’s spiritual and emotional well-being.
Is ‘Blackness’ a Useful Term?
Ayo and Matthew explore a controversial question: Does the term ‘Black’ help or hinder us? Matthew challenges its usefulness, stating, “The word ‘Black’ is a vague, catch-all term that doesn’t truly reflect the diversity of our backgrounds.” He argues that Blackness is often defined by white structures, not by the people it represents.
“A white person calling someone ‘Black’ isn’t identifying anything beyond ‘not white.’ It flattens the rich cultural and ethnic differences across African, Caribbean, and South American communities,” he explains.
However, Ayo pushes back, arguing that Blackness provides a sense of shared experience, especially in white-majority spaces. He sees it as a way to connect with others who have faced similar struggles. While they agree that the term is flawed, they also recognize that for some, it serves as a form of solidarity and identity.
Final Thoughts
Mental health in the Black community is deeply intertwined with identity, culture, and systemic pressures. From the struggles of Black men and women to the complexities of faith, therapy, and racial identity, the conversation between Ayo and Matthew highlights the urgent need for more culturally informed discussions on mental well-being.
Breaking generational cycles, embracing therapy, and redefining what it means to be “Black” are not easy tasks, but they are necessary steps toward a healthier and more empowered future.
For more discussions on Black mental wellness, identity, and community healing, follow Melanated Minds and continue the conversation.