A Man With A Mic Is Just A Man Who Is Unemployed
Inside the podcast-pocaplyse of fake gurus, tradwives and OnlyFans humiliation
Podcast equipment is destroying the Black community.
From coast to coast, my people are gathering in front of microphones in makeshift studios to discuss what’s “plaguing” us. Enough. It’s time to stop.
Stop listening to dating advice from a group of seemingly unemployed individuals.
It’s recycled content from sex workers on Twitter and Reddit. “POV: how I get rich men to pay for what I want 💖” — yeah, it’s sitting at hotel bars, country clubs, and Starbucks in the rich part of town. But it leaves out the part where you’re lying on your back at the end of the night.
The “divine masculine” and “divine feminine” is just a love-and-light version of gender roles. It’s spiritual hoopla. And I wouldn’t even care, if it weren’t for the idiotic bitches going back and forth about it like it’s gospel.
“I’ll be submissive to the right man.”
Pause. Breathe. What do you actually want when you remove a man from the equation?
Who do you want to be?
If every man died tomorrow, where would you see yourself?
That’s real feminism — removing men from the equation entirely.
My goal is the advancement of women (specifically Black women), not whether I can contort myself into being submissive for a “good man.”
Men disappear every day.
Can you live without one?
Imagine how free it must feel to pursue your education relentlessly, without fear of scaring him off.
Imagine how good it must feel to be yourself — messy emotions and all — without performing ease for the sake of being liked.
Women should build lives they can be proud of — and consider getting the man after.
Our grandmothers didn’t get married to men they barely knew so you could play “submissive.”
They got married because they had to.
They couldn’t open their own bank accounts until the 1970s.
Any money or children belonged to their husbands.
Media depictions of the “unhappy housewife” aren’t lying to you. These women were miserable — and on pills half the time.
The TikTok mob wife aesthetic is blowing up, and I don’t get it (mostly because those women can’t dress).
But when you rewatched The Sopranos, were you not paying attention?
Carmela was miserable.
Her whole arc was reconciling her Catholic guilt with the fact that her husband was a sociopath. Tony cheated constantly and didn’t care. Any time she tried to improve her life, he reminded her:
You’re just a housewife.
Mad Men did it too. Don Draper was a serial cheater with a permanent god complex. Betty resisted every shift in the world around her — and she died from cancer. It wasn’t subtle.
Women today are still being socialized to believe that a man is the end goal.
You should be grateful you don’t have to rely on a man to feed your children.
“That’s what choice feminism is.”
Good thing I don’t believe in it.
We’re sliding backward in real-time.
The rise of tradwife content and “I’m not a feminist” girlies is proof.
You want to be unemployed? That’s capitalism, not feminism.
If you’d taken Intro to Gender Studies, you’d know that.
Feminism didn’t harm you — it gave you the right to complain about your life on a public platform.
Women have always worked.
My grandmothers had full-time jobs and still came home to raise children. That was the job after the job.
This tradwife nostalgia also devalues motherhood.
And I’m sick of it.
You can’t clock out of being a mother.
You can’t clock out of being a homemaker.
It’s a 24/7 job, even if you’re tired, sick, or hungry.
You’re a second-class citizen in your own home — for free.
Motherhood is the most undervalued and unpaid job on the planet. And yet girls on the Internet are like:
“I wanna stay home and do Pilates and bake cookies 🙄”
Girl, who has the time to do Pilates if your kids are under 5?
God forbid you marry an incompetent man — now you have to raise your children and parent a grown-ass one.
That’s life for the modern woman.
No one is qualified to be having these podcast debates about manhood and womanhood and feminism and whatever.
Half of these arguments could be dismissed with basic logic.
Just because a man talks with bass in his voice doesn’t make him the smartest person in the room.
Just because he says something confidently doesn’t make it true.
Everyone point and laugh at these “divine masculine” men sitting in front of a microphone instead of working.
Shouldn’t you be building a home?
Shouldn’t you be providing for your family?
Instead, you’re telling women how to be women — something you’ll never understand.
“Women want high-value men.”
Let’s be serious: there are women who will sleep with drunks, bums, crackheads, and pedophiles.
If not one single woman has ever wanted you, it’s your fault.
Women are socialized not to have standards.
That’s why some are serial monogamists — if you don’t care, you can always get a man.
That’s why women were once considered property.
If you don’t have access to your education or finances, you can’t run.
You’re barefoot, pregnant, and getting your head knocked into the fridge — because you’re dependent. That’s not divine femininity. That’s captivity.
Men host these podcasts because it’s the closest they’ll get to fucking these women.
Fresh & Fit. The Whatever podcast.
They bring on OnlyFans girls just to disrespect them. Call them every name in the book. And yet — they’re the same men who pay for the content.
They degrade them because they’re repulsed by their own attraction.
It’s Madonna/Whore complex in real-time.
They want the “good girl” — until she’s tainted.
Then they chase the “whore” they wanted all along.
Tony Soprano. Don Draper.
Pick your poison.
Society has progressed beyond the need for podcasters.
Once again, this is capitalism’s fault.
If wages kept up with inflation, half of these dudes would have actual 9–5s.
Instead, they set up mics and call themselves “entrepreneurs.”
It’s all clickbait for YouTube ad revenue.
You’re whoring yourself out to the algorithm because you think you’re too good for regular employment.
A damn shame.
Society’s cooked if everyone’s flexing for content money.
Who’s gonna change my oil?
Who’s gonna build homes?
Who’s gonna grill at my future hypothetical cookout?
It can’t be me. I’m just a girl.
I cried a little reading your words, this was so so beautifully written. ❤️