Love, Actually: How To Show The Middle-Aged Black Man In Your Life Some Real Love This Valentine’s Day

Husband carrying his wife at home — Source: FG Trade / Getty

Let’s just say it plainly: Valentine’s ain’t really made for Black men of a certain age.

Once you’ve made it to this space in life, love isn’t one of those things you have to express with contrived acts or prescribed gestures. I mean, you can. But most of the people that are closest to you now aren’t here for some superficial reason or some kind of emotional tourism.

So, the act of showing and expressing love isn’t really a one-day thing for us. We do it all the time and in so many different ways.

We check the air in your tires. We ask you if you had anything to eat. We put a hand on your shoulder when you’re sitting at the table, looking stressed out. We pick up the tab. We leave the last brownie alone.

Having a specific day where we’re supposed to make a grand gesture of affection and care can be hard for us. Not because we lack emotions or because we don’t have a handle on our feelings. But because doing so in a normative and expected way might not necessarily capture the full breadth of our emotional spectrum.

Who wants to be standing in the middle of the aisle at a CVS at 9:17 p.m. on February 13, trying to find a card that accurately captures the sentiment of, “Thanks for toughing it out with me when my money got funny”?

The flowers at Trader Joe’s don’t really say, “Thank you for believing when most people didn’t,” like you want them to. There’s no restaurant on OpenTable that specializes in the “Thanks for the fourth chance” dinner.

So, we default to the expected. The tried and the true. We put the people we love first, like we always do, because we find joy in their joy. It’s not an obligation. It’s something that we want to do.

The reservations get made.

The gifts get bought.

The gestures of our love are apparent and present. This is a day that means something, so we make sure that we try to do a lil’ sum’n.

And we do it gladly. We do it because we love you. We do it because we know that you need to feel appreciated, seen, and admired in every way you deserve.

But let’s be honest: sometimes our asymmetrical expression of love is received as a lack of need for affection ourselves. It’s almost like the love is only going one way.

This isn’t a complaint. It’s context.

It’s not that we don’t think that you care. It’s not that we don’t appreciate your efforts. But, again, the normative expression of love on Valentine’s Day is predicated on actions that might feel foreign to us. What is presented as romantic may feel excessive or absurd. We’re simpler creatures that are operating with a different set of priorities.

Our desires are less esoteric.

They’re borne of the fact that so many of us were raised specifically not to be burdensome and to eschew vanity as anti-masculine. The notion that your value in a relationship comes from what you provide rather than how you present. That you don’t ask for something that you can get on your own. It’s hardwired into our ids.

So if you’re looking to show the Black man in your life some love this Valentine’s Day, let’s take a different tack. I have a few suggestions that might be more aligned with where his head and, by extension, his heart may be. And no, I’m not talking about wings and beer or you dressed in something skimpy (although those would also be appreciated).

I’m talking about something that says: I see you as a person. Not a provider. Not a protector. Not a problem-solver. Just you.

Here are five ways to do that.

1. Do His Activity… For Real

And not something hokey like a paint-and-sip that you secretly hope he tolerates. Not something you like that you’re inviting him to “try.”

Actually engage with his interests. Yes, even the ones you think are dumb. Especially the ones you think are dumb.

If he loves vinyl, go to the record store with him. Let him pull out that worn copy of Heroes by The Commodores and explain why listening to “Celebrate” on Saturday mornings shaped his life. Let him tell you about the first time he heard NWA on his cousin’s stereo. Don’t rush him. Don’t eye-roll him. Listen.

If he’s into whiskey, book a tasting. Let him go on about notes and oak barrels and “hints of caramel.” Nod seriously. Ask follow-up questions like you care… because you should.

If he’s a sci-fi nerd, sit on the couch and run the whole Star Wars saga. All of ‘em… even Phantom Menace and Rise of Skywalker.

Let him explain why Rogue One is superior. Let him diagram the rebellion timeline like it’s a TED Talk.

What you’re really doing isn’t indulging his fandom or some pop culture quirks. You’re telling him: your joy matters to me.

Black men don’t often get to be enthusiasts without being judged. We get labeled immature. Escapist. Obsessive. Dorks.

Sometimes we just want to geek out without having to defend why.

2. Build Something Together

And no, I’m not talking about IKEA furniture. That’s an argument disguised as a sideboard.

I’m talking about building something for no reason at all.

The man who’s always tightening screws and swapping HVAC filters might secretly enjoy building a ridiculously intricate Lego set. The guy who mans the grill every cookout might get a kick out of decorating a cake, meticulously piping frosting like he’s Michelangelo.

The goal isn’t to placate his inner child.

The goal is to give him space to use his hands without pressure. To create something that doesn’t have to be functional or necessary. To exist in a moment where nothing is urgent and the goal is simply creation.

Middle-aged Black men are almost always in problem-solving mode. We’re thinking about the mortgage. The kids. The aging parents. The weird sound the fridge has been making.

Let us build something inconsequential. Let us wander mentally.

And while you’re building, ask him what he thinks about when he’s not thinking about anything.

You might be surprised by the answer.

3. Show Him Something Cool

You would be shocked at just how much joy can come from, “Hey, you wanna see something?”

Many a male adventure has been launched on that sentence alone since the beginning of time.

You found a place where you can:

Walk through a decommissioned aircraft carrier.
Stand beneath a suspended blue whale skeleton.
Watch sharks circle at the aquarium.
Eat a 3-foot-long burrito.
Visit an observatory and look at Saturn’s rings.

Take him.

There is something deeply affirming about being invited into wonder. About being reminded that the world is still vast and interesting and not just bills and emails.

For a few hours, let him be curious without consequence.

4. Take Something Off His Plate

This one won’t come with Instagram photos, but it will land in his spirit.

A lot of the men around you carry invisible loads. We are often the quiet center of our households, absorbing stress, translating tension, shielding others from anxiety.

For Valentine’s Day, remove something heavy.

Handle the logistics. Make the calls. Pay the bill before he sees it. Coordinate the childcare. Tell him, “I got it.”

Even better? Ask him what’s weighing on him lately… and don’t try to fix it. Just acknowledge it and be present for him as he processes it.

There is a specific kind of intimacy in relieving pressure.

You want to guarantee another 12 months of harmony? Give that man one day where he is not responsible for the outcome.

Not the reservations. Not the driving. Not the planning. Not the emotional temperature of the room. Not even what he needs to wear.

Just let him show up.

5. Speak Affirmation Into Him, Specifically

This is not the time for generic praise.

Don’t say, “You’re a good man.”

Say, “I see how patient you are with our daughter when she’s struggling, and I admire that.”

Don’t say, “You work hard.”

Say, “I know that meeting stressed you out, and I respect how you handled it without bringing that energy to me.”

Middle-aged Black men rarely receive affirmation that is not tied to performance or conditioned on compliance.

We get praised when we provide. When we fix. When we endure.

But we are more than our output.

Affirm his character. His creativity. His resilience. His growth.

Tell him you see him trying.

And if romance isn’t your relationship with him, if he’s your brother, your father, your friend, the same applies. Send the text. Make the call. Say the thing.

Too many Black men move through life unsure whether their effort is visible.

Make it visible.

Here’s the part that matters.

For Valentine’s Day, it’s not about the things you give.

It’s about the stress and weight you take away.

Even if just for a moment.
Even if just for an evening.

The greatest show of affection for a Black man is allowing him to just be.

Not what he can do.
Not what he can provide.
Not what he should be doing.
Not what he’s responsible for.

Just him.

As he is.

Sit next to him while he explains the difference between imperial and rebel fleets. Laugh with him while frosting ends up everywhere. Wander through a museum holding hands. Take care of the logistics so he doesn’t have to think.

The world often asks Black men to be armor.

Valentine’s Day can be an opportunity to let him set the armor down.

And when he looks over at you, relaxed, unguarded, maybe even a little nerdy, you’ll realize something:

That’s the version of him that deserves the most love.

Give him that.

And watch what happens for the next 12 months.

Trust me.

(But the wings, beer, and skimpy stuff play too. You can do everything enumerated above and that too. Jussayin’.)

Corey Richardson is originally from Newport News, Va., and currently lives in Chicago, Ill. Ad guy by trade, Dad guy in life, and grilled meat enthusiast, Corey spends his time crafting words, cheering on beleaguered Washington DC sports franchises, and yelling obscenities at himself on golf courses. As the founder of The Instigation Department, you can follow him on Substack to keep up with his work.

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