Being a Black business owner is one of the most confusing identity crises you can have. You’re expected to “represent” the race while also proving that your Blackness isn’t the only reason you’re in business. You have to be exceptional but not too successful. Relatable but not struggling. Professional but not “whitewashed.” And somehow, the people judging you the hardest? Are the very people who are supposed to be your community.
And that’s where the mindfuck really begins.
Why Don’t We Trust Our Own Businesses?
Let’s start with the most uncomfortable truth in this whole conversation:
A lot of us—myself included—have internalized the idea that Black businesses aren’t as professional.
I hate that it’s true, but I know you’ve felt it too. The hesitation. The quick Google search to check for reviews. The extra bit of skepticism when booking a service. The worry about whether the experience will be “on point” or if you’re about to get hit with an unprofessional, “Oh, my bad. I’ll get back to you soon.”
And before anybody tries to deny it, let’s just be real for a second:
If a white-owned business screws up, we still go back.
If a Black-owned business screws up once, we’re out.
If a white business has mediocre service, it’s just “eh, that place is mid.”
If a Black business has mediocre service, it’s “That’s why I don’t mess with Black businesses.”
Why is the bar different?
And more importantly, why are we more comfortable taking risks on white businesses than we are with our own?
Because white businesses—even the shitty ones—already have legitimacy. They don’t have to prove they belong in the game. They just exist, and people assume they know what they’re doing. Meanwhile, we’re out here fighting to be seen as “real” businesses in the first place.
The DEI Paradox: Why Blind Support is Insulting
This is where things get messy as hell. Because while I fully believe that we should support each other, I also think blind loyalty is patronizing.
If I only shop with you because you’re Black, I’m not treating you like a business—I’m treating you like a cause.
That’s what they do with DEI. That’s why people think diversity hires are bullshit. Because in their minds, it’s never about skill—it’s about filling a quota. And yet, we turn around and apply that same logic to Black businesses. “Go support them! They’re Black!” No mention of quality. No mention of expertise. Just Blackness.
And that shit does not help us.
It makes our businesses feel like charity cases instead of legitimate competitors.
It lowers the bar for what’s considered “good” service.
It reinforces the stereotype that we can’t stand on our own merit.
Would you feel proud if someone only hired you because they needed a Black face in the room? No? Then why the fuck would we apply that same weak-ass energy to our businesses?
We don’t need charity. We need trust.
The Catch-22: Black Success is Always a Problem
But let’s say a Black business does everything right. They’re polished, professional, top-tier. They’re killing it. Do they finally get to just exist? Nope. Because now they’ve got a new problem:
They’re “too successful.”
If a Black business stays small? “They need more funding, more support.”
If a Black business grows fast? “They’re selling out, they’re going corporate.”
If a Black business caters mostly to Black customers? “They’re limiting themselves.”
If a Black business caters to everybody? “They don’t care about their own people.”
What the actual fuck do y’all want?
We watch white businesses scale all the time and nobody says shit. Nobody calls Starbucks a “white-owned coffee shop.” But let a Black-owned company hit big numbers, and suddenly, it’s a problem. Suddenly, they’re “leaving the community behind.”
So let’s be clear: Black businesses are not obligated to stay accessible to make you comfortable. If a company expands and you feel abandoned, that’s a you problem.
What’s the Solution? The One Thing We Never Do
So what’s the answer? How do we fix this?
We act like every other community and just normalize trusting our own people.
No extra announcements. No forced loyalty pledges. No weird guilt trips. Just buy the shit you like and move the fuck on.
That’s how other communities operate. They don’t scream “support Asian businesses!” They just go to them without hesitation. They don’t require their businesses to be perfect before they trust them. They don’t feel the need to qualify why they shop within their own community.
They just do it.
And that’s what we need to do:
Normalize trusting our own people without hesitation.
Normalize second chances. Stop dropping Black businesses over one bad experience while giving white businesses endless grace.
Normalize constructive critique. Stop acting like accountability is an attack.
Normalize Black success. Stop expecting Black-owned businesses to stay small just because it makes you feel better.
Normalize high standards. We don’t need to settle for subpar just to be supportive.
And above all else, stop making this shit so complicated.
Some of y’all spend more time debating why you should or shouldn’t support Black businesses than it would take to just buy the damn thing and keep it moving.
That’s the real problem. The fact that this is even a discussion when it should just be a natural practice.
So no, I’m not about to beg people to support Black businesses. I’m done with the think pieces. I’m done with the excuses.
I’ll do what makes sense. You do what makes sense. And if that doesn’t involve buying Black? At least be honest about why.
If this hit home for you, stick around. This is where the real conversations happen—the ones we’re all thinking but don’t always get to say out loud.
No empty inspiration, no surface-level discussions—just real, unfiltered takes on business, identity, and navigating spaces that weren’t built for us.
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