Brother, It’s Time: Why Black Men Need to Be Vulnerable in Relationships

Brother, It’s Time: Why Black Men Need to Be Vulnerable in Relationships

Growing up, I can’t tell you how many times I heard, “Man up!” or “Stop crying, be tough.” As Black men, we’ve been conditioned to believe that showing emotion makes us weak — like somehow our strength lies in silence, in the straight face, in the tight chest and closed mouth.

But let’s be real — that armor we wear? It’s heavy. And when we bring that armor into our relationships, it doesn’t protect us. It blocks us. From real love. From connection. From peace.

Why Vulnerability Matters

Being vulnerable doesn’t mean you have to cry every day or bare your soul to everybody on the street. It means letting the people who love you actually know you — your fears, your dreams, your mistakes, your needs.

It means putting down the mask.

And for us as Black men, it’s revolutionary. Because so many of us have never been given permission to do it.

Example 1: The Couple Who Grew Closer When He Opened Up

I had a homeboy — we’ll call him Malik. Malik grew up in a house where the only time he saw men cry was at funerals. So when he got into a relationship with his girl, he always bottled stuff up. He’d come home from work stressed, but when she asked, “What’s wrong?” he’d just shrug and say, “I’m good.”

But that “I’m good” was killing their connection. She felt shut out. He felt alone.

One night they had a blowout fight and she told him: “I can’t help you if you won’t let me in.” That hit him. So, for the first time, he sat with her and just talked. About how he hated his job. About how scared he was to fail her. About how he didn’t feel like he was enough.

It wasn’t pretty. He cried. She cried. But after that night, they felt closer than ever. She finally knew how to support him, and he finally felt safe being seen.

Example 2: Vulnerability Saved My Friendship

It’s not just romantic relationships — vulnerability can save friendships too.

I almost lost my best friend, Terrence, because I wouldn’t admit when I was hurting. A few years back, I was going through it — money tight, depressed, questioning everything. But when he’d check in, I’d hit him with the same, “I’m straight, bro.”

Meanwhile, I was ducking his calls, not showing up for him, letting resentment build up. One day he pulled up on me, looked me dead in my face, and said: “You think I can’t handle your truth? Bro, I want to know what’s real with you.”

That moment changed me. We sat there for hours. I told him everything. He didn’t judge me — he held space for me. And since then? Our friendship is solid. Stronger than ever.

Example 3: Teaching Our Sons A Better Way

Maybe the most important reason to get comfortable with vulnerability is for the next generation. I’ve got a  bonus son. He’s thirteen now, and I already see how the world tries to make him tough — “Big boys don’t cry.”

You know what I tell him? “Big boys do cry. And that’s brave.”

When he sees me express my feelings — whether I’m sad, afraid, or even confused — he learns it’s okay to do the same. I’m breaking that cycle. One moment at a time.

How To Start Being More Vulnerable

You don’t have to become a poet overnight. Try this: 

•  When your partner asks how you’re feeling, pause. Check in with yourself. Answer honestly, even if it feels awkward.  
•  Ask for what you need. “I’m overwhelmed. I need a hug.” Simple as that.  
•  Find a brother you trust and practice opening up. A real friend won’t think less of you — he’ll respect you more.  
•  Therapy is not weakness. It’s strength. Black men deserve safe spaces to unpack our stuff too.

Final Word

We can’t be fully loved if we’re only halfway known. Vulnerability isn’t the opposite of strength — it’s the proof of it.

So, my brother, take the armor off. Let yourself be seen. That’s how we heal — ourselves, our relationships, and our community.

Books & Resources to Help You Open Up

Here are some good places to start if you want to dig deeper:

Books

“Cry Like a Man: Fighting for Freedom from Emotional Incarceration” by Jason Wilson — a powerful, relatable read about breaking the cycle of emotional suppression for Black men.

“Unmasking Masculinity: A Guide for Men” by David Kundtz — practical and real about what it means to be emotionally honest.

“I Don't Want to Talk About It: Overcoming the Secret Legacy of Male Depression” by Terrence Real — breaks down why men struggle to express what’s going on inside and how to heal.

“Heavy: An American Memoir” by Kiese Laymon — a raw, beautifully written memoir about growing up Black and male, and the weight we carry when we hide our truth.

Online Resources

Therapy for Black Men (www.therapyforblackmen.org) — a directory of Black male therapists and free mental health resources.

The Black Men Heal Project (www.blackmenheal.org) — free therapy sessions for Black men and a community for open dialogue.

The Safe Place App — a free mental health app created for the Black community, with resources and self-care tools.

One Last Thing

Start small. Be patient with yourself. You’ve carried the mask for years — you don’t have to rip it off all at once. But every moment you choose to be real is a step toward real freedom.