The Dangers of Forcing Marriage onto Black Girls & Stigmatizing Single Motherhood
By: Toni A. Wilson
Content Warning 🚨: mentions and details of intimate partner violence, violence against Black women, reproductive coercion
The internet can be a mirror—sometimes illuminating, sometimes painful, and downright disrespectful. These two tweets—both loud with judgment and dripping in disrespect—reflect the tightrope we’re constantly forced to walk when it comes to our experiences of motherhood and our reproductive autonomy.
What’s wild is that this kind of commentary isn’t even surprising—it’s just another day navigating a world that demands our perfection while denying us grace.
With fascism and conservative regimes on the rise everywhere, there’s a resurgence of conservative propaganda being fed to Black women and girls: “traditional wife” ideologies, the “clean girl aesthetic,” marriage as a bigger commitment than having a baby, skinny is in, push for more modesty and femininity, etc. Part of that conservative messaging is the incessant push of “traditional” relationships and views, and the amplified vilification of single motherhood.
Halle Bailey recently broke headlines—but not because of her Grammy-nominated voice or stellar acting chops. Instead, she issued a restraining order against DDG, her ex-boyfriend and the father of her son, Halo. Since then, L.A. courts awarded her temporary sole custody of her son after she presented a 65-page document detailing abuse, manipulation, and harassment from DDG. Halle Bailey’s restraining order is a clear example of why it’s imperative to give young Black women and mothers the space to navigate their motherhood and identities without the pressure or need to force marriage on them.
Since the start of Halle’s relationship with DDG, the public has had a front-row seat to some of their ups and downs—primarily due to DDG’s work as a streamer. Social media echoed sentiments that he wasn’t the right fit for her, given his public negging, degradation, humiliation, and bullying of Halle online and during his live streams. Halle documented DDG breaking into her home while she wasn’t there, destroying her ring camera, calling her degrading names, slamming her head into the steering wheel, chipping her tooth, pulling her hair, and bruising her arm – in front of their son.
Marriage Does Not Negate Nor Stop Abuse
Black families have never fit the standard American family mold. The 1965 Moynihan Report, The Negro Family: The Case for National Action, by sociologist Daniel Patrick Moynihan, blamed the breakdown of the Black nuclear family on single Black motherhood, attributing household instability to a Black matriarchy that undermined Black men and painted Black women as dependent on welfare. Rooted in sexism and misogynoir, the report ignored systemic barriers Black families—especially Black mothers—face, and helped popularize the “welfare queen” trope while justifying cutbacks to programs supporting Black women and families.
As a culture that is still rooted in purity culture, with an emphasis on abstaining from sex until marriage upholding traditional values for women’s bodies, and the nuclear (traditional) family (a mother and father who are married), it’s imperative that society shift the conversation when young Black women reveal pregnancies. The discussion needs to move beyond marriage and wedding rings to focus on community and support.
Black girls and Black communities as a whole, are force-fed anti-Black and conservative messages daily through social media and policies. Whether it’s through “feminine” content, “soft girl era,” “traditional wife,” or “skinny/slim and Ozempic” trends, the message is clear: Black women must assimilate into white femininity and right-wing politics. The pressure on Black girls and women to get married at the slightest sign of pregnancy is growing increasingly abrasive.
There is a “stain” that is placed on single motherhood for Black girls and women, and that “stain” continues to mark whether they are deemed worthy as parents and partners.
Black women have long been stereotyped as “the ‘Welfare Queen’” –a racist and sexist trope popularized during the Reagan Administration to villainize their use of public assistance and amplify the narrative that Black fathers aren’t present in the home.
Even though white women make up the majority of single mothers in America, Black women bear the brunt of this stereotype and its public backlash. The “welfare queen” trope, almost 50 years old, still plagues the Black community, weaponized against Black single mothers today.
Over the past three years, several Black women—many former child stars—have debuted baby bumps only to be met with social media bashing, taunted with reminders of “too many baby showers and not enough wedding showers.” Stars like Keke Palmer, Halle Bailey, and Skai Jackson have all faced vitriol from those demanding to know when they will marry the fathers of their children.
It’s also important here to note that all three of these women have experienced abuse in their relationships with the fathers of their children. Skai Jackson filing for a restraining order from the father of her child, “Yerky Yerky”, only a few days after Halle Bailey was issued. Skai detailed several incidents of physical abuse, including being forced to drink bleach to terminate her pregnancy, being held at knife point the knife was pointed at her baby bump, and having her head smashed into a car window.
Pregnancy can be one of the most beautiful times in a woman’s life, but it can also be the scariest. Pregnancy is one of the most vulnerable times for women as it leaves them more susceptible to violence and control. Around 30% of domestic and intimate partner abuse begins during pregnancy, and 1 in 6 pregnant women will experience abuse.
While the public pressures pregnant Black girls and women to deepen their connection to their abuser, they are navigating real-time experiences with their abusers while trying to protect themselves and their babies.
The questions and thoughts we should have aren’t “where’s the ring?” or “there goes another broken home!” Instead, we should focus on ensuring that the person experiencing pregnancy is having a safe, joyous, and positive experience.
We have to stop forcing marriage on every Black girl and woman that announces pregnancy because the truth is, we don’t know what that woman or girl is experiencing or if marriage is a desire of theirs. We must stop wanting and requiring Black girls to further attach themselves to men just because it makes you comfortable or because it fits the status quo and traditional right-wing family models.
Marriage does not stop nor does it negate abuse. As folks who understand the intricacies of abuse and how it works to keep the abused feeling shame and silenced, if Halle had listened to the noise of social media or maybe even the pressures of her friends and family, that marriage would have made it even more challenging for her to leave DDG and would have left her far more susceptible to his abuse, manipulation, and control.
A mama and her baby are a whole family.
Shame Is Hurting & Silencing Survivors
Originally created by the Domestic Abuse Intervention Project, the Power & Control Wheel is a powerful tool for understanding how abuse works. It maps out the patterns of manipulation and violence abusers use to gain and maintain control in a relationship—often subtle, but deeply rooted in intimidation and coercion.
In Halle’s court documents, she shared that she broke up with DDG in October 2024. She provided numerous examples of abuse and manipulation throughout and after their relationship while attempting to co-parent.
Manipulation can be described as a partner being deceptive, controlling, and trying to establish dominance, causing power imbalances that lead to psychological harm. Examples include gaslighting, blame-shifting, love bombing, guilt-tripping, threats, ultimatums, and silent treatment.
Abuse exists on a spectrum: emotional, psychological, physical, spiritual, financial, sexual, and reproductive. It’s a pattern of behaviors used by one person to gain power and control over another. Abuse can happen in all relationships – platonic, romantic, work, etc.
Understanding this makes it clear why DDG escalated to physical abuse as of January 2025. The most dangerous times for survivors are when they are trying to leave. Statistics show that 75% of women who are experiencing domestic violence or intimate partner violence are murdered when attempting to leave.
It’s no surprise that when Halle tried to distance herself, DDG intensified his control tactics, hitting her and sneaking into her home to remind her that no matter how far she went, he could reach her.
Reproductive coercion, which are behaviors used to control reproductive health and decisions, is real and affects women of all backgrounds and statuses. Women and girls are coerced into having children or trapped by abusers because having a child with the abuser guarantees continued access. The shame we place on Black girls and women who become single mothers is the same shame used to keep them silent and attached to abusers. Abusers know there’s a stigma around single motherhood and use it to keep victims imprisoned.
Every time we shame a Black single mother, we do the work of white supremacy by reinforcing negative ideologies about Black motherhood and trapping women in dangerous relationships.
Every time a survivor speaks out about their abuse, assault, or sexual assault, it creates a necessary cultural shift. When Cassie shared in November 2023 about the abuse and sexual violence she endured at Diddy’s hands, it opened the door for Dawn Richards, a former employee, to come forward months later. Dawn testified against Diddy in his sex trafficking and RICO trial last month, sharing her story of survival escaping his wrath and abuse. Silence gives abuse space to grow, to fester, to thrive. Abusers feed off of your silence – it’s the spinach to their Popeye charging them up for the continued abuse and control. We must create safety, freedom, and comfort for Black girls navigating motherhood and partnership. We must hold their stories to be true as we hold our own. We have to keep showing up for Black girls and survivors navigating abuse under abusive systems and within an abusive culture that continues to reinforce our deservingness of abuse.
Showing up means believing survivors, connecting them to resources, listening without judgment, helping them safety plan, creating mutual aid networks, and never pressuring them to leave before they feel ready, safe, and supported. Because the truth is: leaving doesn’t always guarantee safety. Survivors know what’s at stake, and they are already doing the mental math of survival every single day. Our job isn’t to swoop in with judgment—it’s to build safety nets, not pressure cookers. And as we hold abusers to the fire, may we always hold survivors and Black single mothers up into the light so that the fire that burns within them never fades.
Reproductive justice includes the right to parent (or not) in safe, supported environments free from control, violence, or shame. It means loving Black women and femmes out loud, even when their choices make you uncomfortable. It means making space for complexity. For grief. For rage. For joy.
We deserve better than a society that only celebrates our autonomy when it’s neat, respectable, and quiet. We deserve safety and softness, even in the mess. Especially in the mess.
So if you’re wondering what to do next
Start small and start close. Check on your people. Share resources. Challenge the tired narratives. Talk louder about the things folks still whisper about. And when Black women tell you they’re hurting, believe them. Not because they need saving, but because they’ve been surviving for far too long on their own.
Toni Wilson (she/her/hers) is a strategic storyteller, social worker, organizer, plus size influencer, fat liberationist and BlackFeminist from Brooklyn born to Jamaican immigrant parents. As a first generation American, she grounds her work at the intersections of race, gender, class, sexuality, body, and culture. Through youth work, organizing, creative media, and writing, Toni uses her radical imagination to envision a world where everyone believes in the promise of all Black women, girls, and gender expansive people. Toni builds national strategies and conversations centering the needs of Black women across the country and keeps her hands on the pulse of policy and cultural moments that impact the material conditions of Black girls. Toni is a leading voice in body liberation activism spaces. She is a co-host of Stay In the Sun podcast and her writing can be found in ZORA, Prism Reports, Bacon Magazine, GrownMag, Medium, and Substack. Outside of her professional life, she enjoys traveling, visiting cultural museums, live concerts, playing mas in Caribbean carnival, nurturing her vibrant orange locs, and wearing red lipstick.