Men Matter Too: They Celebrate Your Hustle, I Celebrate Your Healing

A Love Letter To The Black Man That Deserves More Than Just Applause…He Deserves Peace.

Dear Black Man,

I want to take a moment to speak directly to you — not just as a partner, sister, daughter, or friend — but as a woman who sees you. As Father’s Day approaches, I don’t want to just talk about the sacrifices you make or the weight you carry. I want to talk about you.

I want to talk about your peace. Your softness. Your right to breathe fully in this world.

We live in a society that loves to celebrate your strength but often ignores your exhaustion. They praise your hustle, but overlook your healing. And too often, even love feels like another responsibility you’re expected to carry. But I want you to know something:

You deserve self care, too.

Not just the kind of care that’s about providing for everyone else — I’m talking about the deep, intentional, restorative care that pours back into you.

You deserve mornings where you sit with your coffee or tea, not rushing out the door, but being still, letting the sunlight hit your face.

You deserve afternoons where you unplug from the noise of the world and just breathe.

You deserve evenings where you’re not just “the provider,” not just “the protector,” but simply a man — human, deserving of softness, of affection, of quiet.

I know this world has tried to teach you that emotions are a weakness, that vulnerability is dangerous, that self-care is somehow “unmanly.” But hear me: that’s a lie.

They taught you early that your value came from what you could do — how much you could carry, how much you could endure, how much you could give.

But I need you to hear me when I say:

You are not just what you carry.

You are not just what you provide.

You are not just who you protect.

Real strength is being able to say, “I need rest.”

Real strength is asking for help.

Real strength is learning to love yourself beyond what you produce or provide.

And as a father — whether you’re a biological dad, a stepdad, an uncle, a mentor, or a father figure — your self-care isn’t just for you. It’s for the generations you’re shaping. The kids watching you need to see that Black men deserve softness, deserve gentleness, deserve love in abundance.

Taking care of yourself teaches them that strength and softness can exist together.

It’s not selfish — it’s legacy work.

So this is my love letter to you:

I love your laugh. I love your mind. I love your fatherhood — not just in the sacrifices you make, but in the love you pour out. And I especially love when you remember to pour that love back into yourself. And I don’t want to just love the tired, worn-out version of you. I want to love the version of you that knows how to give back to yourself. You are worthy of joy. You are worthy of rest. You are worthy of care. And I want you to know something that often goes unsaid:

I don’t just celebrate your strength — I celebrate your softness.

I don’t just praise your hustle — I stand for your healing.

Let this be your reminder: Black man, you deserve to be whole.

So here’s what I want you to do next — for you:

→ Take one intentional moment this week just for yourself. Not for work. Not for the kids. Not for anyone else. Just you. Even if it’s five minutes (but I hope you choose more)—and whatever you do, make it all yours.

→ Say it out loud: “I deserve to be cared for, too.” Say it until it feels true, even if your voice shakes or it feels awkward. Affirm yourself King.

→ Share this with another Black man you care about. Let this love letter ripple through your brothers, friends, and family. Let them know they deserve healing, too.

We break generational cycles together. We build legacies rooted not just in strength — but in wholeness.

Black man, I see you.

Not just as a provider, protector, or pillar of strength — I see you fully, and worthy of love without conditions.

And remember I don’t just celebrate your hustle.

I celebrate your healing.

Until Next Time,

La’Ray Renee