It’s more acceptable for a Black man to have ten children with ten different women than for him to be gay—and that fact should stop us in our tracks.

We live in a world where irresponsibility gets a pass if it performs masculinity the “right” way. A man can leave a trail of single mothers, stretched resources, and children growing up with absence baked into their origin story, and folks will still shrug and say, “That’s just what men do.” But let that same man love another man—tenderly, honestly, without apology—and suddenly he’s a problem. Suddenly his manhood is on trial. Suddenly the community finds its moral backbone.

That contradiction isn’t accidental. It’s the long shadow of patriarchy mixed with homophobia, marinated in respectability politics. Straightness is treated like a hall pass. As long as you desire women, you can be reckless, emotionally unavailable, even cruel—and still be seen as “normal.” But queerness? That’s where society draws an imaginary line in the sand and pretends it’s about values instead of fear.

What’s wild is how this plays out in the name of “legacy.” People will argue that having all those children is proof of virility, of manhood, of continuation. But legacy without presence is just biology doing pushups. Legacy isn’t how many children you make—it’s how many you raise, protect, and love out loud. Meanwhile, a gay Black man who builds a stable life, contributes to his community, shows up with integrity, and loves deeply is treated like he’s betraying something sacred.

Let’s tell the truth plainly: this isn’t about morality. It’s about control. It’s easier for a society to forgive harm that fits its expectations than to accept love that challenges them. Straight chaos feels familiar. Queer joy feels threatening.

And that says far more about the culture than it ever will about the man.

Because at the end of the day, love that harms no one should never be more controversial than harm dressed up as tradition.