The Fetishization of Black Men

 

 

Fetishization is when someone reduces you to an object of desire based on one aspect of your identity. It can be sexual or non-sexual, but either way, it’s dehumanizing and harmful.

 One thing that’s always been at the front of my mind is how Black men are fetishized. Now, this isn’t just a Black man thing; BIPOC folks across the board deal with it. But I’m speaking from my own experience, as a Black man.

In my journey through the kink community, I’ve mostly played with white women. And because of that, I’ve always had to walk this fine line with how I let myself be seen and how I acted. Kink and TTWD (This Thing We Do) are often sexualized for a lot of people. Naked bodies are exciting to most of us, that’s just a fact. But for me, even though sex was usually expected as part of play, I negotiated it out. And yeah, that confused some of my partners. They didn’t get why I wasn’t leaning into it.

 What I’ve noticed over the years is that there are certain things people expect from Black men in kink spaces—and honestly, in society in general:

- Physical Stature

- Sexual stamina

- Genital size

- Sexual appetite

- Machismo

 

These stereotypes have been around since the days of slavery when Black men were reduced to nothing more than bodies. Our intellect, our personalities—none of that mattered. And I know some folks will say, “Oh, these attitudes don’t exist in the kink community.” But that’s just not true. Anything that exists in the real world will show up in any subculture, kink included. And the smaller the community, the stronger these attitudes seem to hit.

In all of it we want to be seen for what we are.

 

I’ve had people tell me, “Man, you must be fighting them off with a stick. I wish I were you.” You can read that however you want, but I know what it is. It’s this expectation that we have to be better in bed, have bigger dicks, and satisfy every sexual desire just because that’s the stereotype. And sure, I’m talking about this from a sexual standpoint because when it comes to actual skill, those of us who are good at what we do, both soft and hard skills, are seen as outliers. Like we’re some kind of exception to the rule instead of just being good, period.

 What frustrates me is that I came into this community looking for a safe space to explore something central to my being. But instead, I found myself weighed down by having to live up to people’s baser instincts. “Get in where you fit in” doesn’t really apply here when the fit is so narrow and confining. If we don’t challenge these perceptions, or at least have a conversation about them, we’re just deepening the divide.

To be seen…

Means to

See it all...

Not just what stimulates

…but what nourishes

If you see

Me..

You want to know the things that makes me worth exploring until you are consumed by the need to not humanize but to…

…tell me you

Understand I deserve

To have the exterior

Torn away…

To see…

My soul    

 

I’ve heard other groups talk about the line between attraction and fetishization, and it’s a conversation that’s often expected. But when it comes to Black men, it’s like, “Shut up and enjoy all the white women at your feet.” Can this all be written off as assumptions or misunderstandings? No. Absolutely not. This is based on my lived experiences, not guesswork.

 The fetishization of Black men is so ingrained in our society that it’s hard to separate it from everyday life. We can be the most intelligent, compassionate, and human people in the world, but it always comes back to being reduced to these traits:

- Physical Stature

- Sexual stamina

- Genital size

- Sexual appetite

- Machismo

I’m not going to stop short of saying this is tied to racism—because it absolutely is. The question is, how do we move past this? How do we strip away the dehumanizing aspects of sexual fetishization and just let people exist? There’s a time to lean into things, and there’s a time to redefine them. The way forward is seeing each other as enough, as equals. Only then can we start to self-correct.

 So, how do we end this? Because navigating sexualized fetishization is exhausting, and that’s what this is: dehumanizing and exhausting.