The Unfair Reality for Black Women on Married at First Sight

I've been a fan of Married at First Sight since moving back to the United States in 2016. The concept of letting experts choose a potential mate and not being able to see that mate until meeting at the altar was intriguing to me. Each week, the show inspires insightful conversations between my boyfriend and me.

However, it’s been both painful and frustrating over the years to watch Black women consistently come into the process with open hearts and an honest desire for love, only to find themselves gaslit and disrespected. These women—successful, intelligent, and ready to commit—are continually matched with men who seem threatened by their strength or unwilling to meet them at their level. Time and again, these women are forced to navigate public judgment and unfair stereotypes on top of the harm and emotional abuse caused by their ill-matched partners.

The most recent example, Ikechi and Emem, epitomizes this toxic dynamic. From the beginning, Ikechi’s expectations were lofty—his own family admitted he was looking for a “unicorn”—and yet, he showed no willingness to rise to the occasion himself. They started off so strong, and I was actually rooting for them--until I couldn't. His repeated accusations that Emem made him feel “small” proved themselves to be thinly veiled projections of his own insecurities, rooted in discomfort with her success. The emotional burden he’s placed on her shoulders was cringeworthy, to say the least, and is yet another example of how Black women are often left to manage their partner’s fragile egos while neglecting their own needs.

Yes, there are women of other cultures who have had similar experiences on the show, but there are far fewer success stories involving Black women than with other cultures. I also admit that not every woman on the show is without fault, but far too many Black women leave the process with emotional scars. And when they do stand up for themselves, they are often unfairly cast through the hurtful lens of the Angry Black Woman. This narrative was particularly painful to watch with Zack Freeman and Michaela Clark. Zack was aware of Michaela's emotional vulnerabilities, but instead of offering understanding, he played games and painted himself as the victim when she reacted. As a result, Michaela received so much public criticism that she deactivated her social media accounts. And let's not even talk about the trainwrecks known as Justin and Alexis; Chris and Paige; and Brandon and Taylor!

Thankfully, not all stories are disheartening. Woody Randall, who happens to be my distant cousin, and his friend Miles Williams are shining examples of what Black love and healthy relationships can look like. I am so proud of Woody for the way he loves Amani with openness and respect. Miles, too, was incredible on the show, showing patience and vulnerability as he helped Karen break down her walls. Although their relationship started off slow, Shawniece Jackson and Jephte Pierre from Season 6 are another example of Black love. These men proved that Black men can meet and exceed the emotional maturity needed to build lasting love. But for MAFS, these couples are exceptions, not the rule.

If MAFS wants to be a true celebration of love and diversity, it needs to do better by Black women. This starts with casting men who are open to love and emotionally capable of nurturing it, especially with women whose strength and success should be celebrated, not weaponized against them. Love is more than a romance novel or a fantasy; it takes real work and commitment to stay together even when times get tough. The MAFS producers owe it to the people who apply for their show to vet potential mates who understand this and possess emotional maturity, instead of choosing attention-seeking characters who will bring drama to the season. Until then, the show will remain a painful reminder of Black women's challenges in seeking love—not just on TV, but in the world at large.