When Disrespect Becomes Normal, the House Weakens

My Response to this video:

Black Women Are the New Beckys
byu/CarolineJhingory inBlackboard

Disrespect inside the house, it doesn’t matter if it’s subtle or overt, weakens the house. I don’t take this as anti–Black woman rhetoric. I take it as intra-Black truth. And the truth is, ignoring it doesn’t free us. Acknowledging it is the first step toward clarity.

This didn’t start with reality TV. Every era has had its scapegoat: the shows of the 80s, church politics, family color hierarchies, gossip. Media doesn’t invent the behavior, it amplifies it, gives it a costume, and whispers permission in our ears. And what I’m seeing most now are Great Pretenders.

Bougie. Baddie. Unbothered. Read her. Check her. None of that is character. It’s posture. Aggression dressed as confidence is not confidence, it’s strain. True confidence doesn’t need an audience, and it doesn’t humiliate someone else to breathe. You can always tell because when the costume comes off, when the lights fade, many of these women are miserable.

I don’t agree that Black women are “becoming white women.” But I do see how micro-aggression has been normalized in spaces where proximity to money, status, or visibility is treated as virtue. Access becomes superiority. Ignorance wears heels. And yes, men sometimes instigate it, reward it, hide behind it. The influence of LGBT culture is complicated too—not about identity, but about imitation. We borrow sharpness and call it wit. We borrow hardness and call it survival. But borrowed armor never fits right—and it cuts the wearer first.

What worries me most is the refusal of self-agency. Impulsiveness masquerading as empowerment is still destructive. When women harm other women, it exposes how deeply conditioned we are to turn on each other. Acknowledging this isn’t betrayal. It’s the first adult step. This behavior doesn’t protect us. It isn’t a safety net.

The real question is: what culture are we willing to stop feeding? This isn’t a reality TV “Real World” confessional. This is life—with consequences that linger, and no reunion episode to fix it.

Micro-aggressions among Black women don’t build boundaries. They chip away at the brain, the spirit, and the house itself. Sisterhood is not a costume. It’s not posture. It’s presence. And if we don’t defend it, the house will collapse—not from outsiders, but from within.