Without Community, Who Is Setting Up Single Black Women?

Remember when love stories often started with a friend of a friend or a cousin’s neighbor playing matchmaker? Nowadays, that feels like ancient history. So, when I heard about Normani and Pittsburgh Steeler DK Metcalf's recent engagement, I became fully invested in learning more about their dating history. As more interview clips of their love story surfaced online, I took a deep dive and discovered that Ciara and Russell Wilson introduced the couple. That detail got me thinking about the generational shift in dating. In the past, extended family, friends, churchgoers and the community often played a crucial role in matchmaking, helping people find potential partners. But in today’s digital age, that village dynamic seems to be fading.

As a successful, single Black millennial woman, I can say with certainty that the dating scene is exhausting. The games are tiring. And the constant interrogation about marriage and children from those around me is draining. “Do you want to get married?” “Do you want kids?” “Are you dating?” Yes, I want marriage and children, but honestly, dating isn’t easy. Looking back to my younger years, you couldn’t tell me I wouldn’t have the beautiful house on the hill, married to my man, with a growing family by now. However, life has a funny way of humbling you — a lesson I’ve learned time and time again.

In the midst of this dating fatigue, a good friend of mine recently asked me a question that sparked some soul-searching: what self-limiting beliefs I might be holding onto that could be hindering my dating life? Although the question caught me off guard, it made me instantly reflect on what might be standing in the way of my happily ever after. I started to wonder if my past relationship experiences created a barrier of mistrust or if the constant pressure of societal expectations has made me hesitant to fully embrace the beauty and the challenges of dating.

Maybe it’s the fear of vulnerability after past disappointments. Or the unfortunate feeling that the stress and potential heartbreak of dating just isn’t worth it. I know I’m not alone in this. Aside from my endless group chat convos and memes confirming the horrors of modern dating, the statistics speak for themselves. According to the United States Census Bureau, 48% of Black women have never been married—a figure that has risen from roughly 20% in the 1970s. This percentage isn’t just a number. It reflects the realities Black women face and the layered expectations that shape our romantic journeys.

So, where’s the village? When I hear matchmaking stories like Normani and DK, Meghan and Prince Harry, who were set up on a blind date by a mutual friend—or Tamia and Grant Hill, who were introduced by none other than Anita Baker in the ‘90s, it’s a clear indication: the decline of close-knit community networks has impacted Black women’s dating lives. Leaving many of us to navigate love on our own in a complex, disconnected world.

With social media, dating apps and the evolving technological landscape, the lack of interest in forming lasting bonds is growing day by day. The immediate access, unlimited options, and anything-goes attitude have both men and women quickly moving on to the next. Seriously, what happened to dating with intentionality?

Don't get me wrong, I've gone on many dates and tried the online dating thing, but just as quickly as we exchange numbers, the thrill and excitement fizzle out just as fast. Unfortunately, this is the modern dating culture. However, I will admit my therapist has stated on numerous occasions that the same dedication, effort and energy I put into building a successful career should also be applied to my dating life. As much as I want to disagree with her, I know she's right.

But honestly, what gives? In the vein that "nothing is constant but change," it's painfully obvious things have changed. Courtship is no longer the same; the village that once was has seemingly vanished, and with unlimited online access, as cliché as it sounds, the thought process is that the grass is greener elsewhere. Before my mother's untimely death, my parents were married for 40 years and set the blueprint for my view on love. Sometimes, I wonder, are my standards too high? I recently realized the answer is no; other people's standards are too low. 

If someone is truly interested in pursuing something meaningful with you, wouldn't they rise to the occasion? There wouldn’t be emotional rollercoasters, mental gymnastics, games, ghosting, love bombing, bare minimum effort or an ounce of uncertainty that goes along with finding the one. 

The idea of “struggle love” or the expectation of being a “ride-or-die” partner is being dismantled as more women are embracing healthier standards than previous generations. Black women specifically are leaning more toward living the soft life, effortlessly and unapologetically—making it clear if you’re not positively adding to my life then the only other alternative is to subtract you from my life. 

But all hope is not lost. Dating coaches and Black matchmakers are on the rise, offering a much-needed dialogue in how we approach love, connection and romantic partnerships. Love is a verb and it requires action. As bell hooks stated, “Love is a combination of care, commitment, knowledge, responsibility, respect and trust.” Nevertheless, my personal fear is that many people have abandoned the notion of love in place of temporary satisfaction. Casual sex, surface-level and superficial connections have replaced long-lasting, genuine bonds, leaving us more disconnected than ever before. 

Social media and texting have simultaneously connected and isolated us, creating a false illusion of emotional intimacy. Both are convenient yet shallow substitutions for building solid foundations and engaging in deep conversations. Instead, we've been left with emotionless exchanges that consist of emojis, gifs and short-form abbreviations that replace full sentences and conversational courtesies.

Although I speak about intentionality, I may need to take my own advice. My village may be missing because people view my laser-focused dedication to achieving personal career goals as my primary focus and romantic relationships as secondary and not part of my current plans. So, how do I indicate my openness to authentic partnership? The first step is to be more emotionally available and vulnerable to create space for the possibility of connection and to share another side of myself beyond professional ambitions.

However, why can't I have both? Black women, hear me when I say this: I stand ten toes down on the fact that we shouldn't have to choose between having a thriving career or a fulfilled love life. We're more than capable of having both. In my case, perhaps if I allow myself to make room for love, my village will show up and show out. They'll recognize that my heart, just the same as my career, holds depth and meaning and is open and ready for something everlasting, something that is real.

This is why we need the the re-emergence of our village, trusted family, friends, neighbors and co-workers who once played a meaningful role in bringing couples together like Normani and DK, Holly Robinson Peete and her husband, former NFL quarterbackRodney Peete who’ve been married since 1995 or LL Cool J and his wife Simone Smith who met in the late 80s. 

We all need that guiding force again of people who see beyond the highlight reels, facades and dating profiles, who know our hearts, life goals and shared values. A community of people who can help us recognize compatibility and growth that algorithms either often miss or don’t quite get right. While dating apps and social media may offer instant access, it’s the village that offers wisdom, discernment, sound advice, accountability and genuine connection. These are the very things that lasting love is built on. It's a foundation I wholeheartedly believe is worth rebuilding.