Dear Church: Y’all Lied. Destiny Child Was Right! We Do Need a Soldier

I remember being a young, churchy girl, rocking my braids and patent leather shoes, when Destiny’s Child dropped that anthem—“I need a soldier.”

Baby, I was humming it in the back pew, thinking I was singing in code. But then the church leaders shut it down quick. The men, of course... Saying, “No, baby, you don’t need no soldier.”

Lies. They lied to us.
And I’m pissed about it.

Now here I am—grown, educated, loyal, fine, whole entire meal with dessert—and tired.

Beyoncé, Kelly, and Michelle — on behalf of the church, we owe y’all a public apology.

Y’all were right.
The Church was wrong.

They told us not to listen to y’all. Said y’all were too worldly. Too fast. Too secular.

But you were just trying to put us on game. Trying to prepare us.
“I need a soldier.”
A whole word.
A whole warning.

But now we grown.
Now we know.
Y’all weren’t being rebellious—you were being prophetic.

So this is our moment of repentance.

We were misled.
We were out here praying for soft, safe, need permission for everything, sweater-wearing saints.

When what we really needed was a bold, streetwise, Bible-carrying, alpha-minded man who could fight in the Spirit and the streets.

Tired of these weak-ass, emotionally fragile, can’t-change-a-tire, no-vision-having, can't flip the money seven ways, “let’s go half on everything” type of men.

Sir, what am I supposed to do with you?

I don’t want no soft-spoken, suit-wearing, poetry-snapping, “what’s your love language” type of dude who can’t even pray over a sandwich.

I want a reformed dope boy.
Yes. A sophisticated hood negro. Who slang cr**k rock out his grandmother back door (in his way way past).

Give me a man who can make love to me like Kevin Gates "I got you baby" energy.

Boosie loyalty.

Jeezy ambition.

Talk to me like Lil Wayne. or The Baby

A country negro from Louisiana. A man with that Georgia slang. Or a New York ex-scamming negro. Even the white boy got swag in New York

I want a man who’s lived a little, fought through some real storms, and came out refined—but still rough around the edges. And understand how a man is suppose to treat HIS woman.

A man that he treats his baby mom so good you don't even know her name. Cause she off living her best life.

Don’t come over here asking me what I bring to the table when you ain’t even got wisdom to flip what's on the table.

I want a dope boy that I give a few hundred dollars too and he comes back with a whole grocery store or laundry mat business.

My grandfather use to sell bananas, apples, oranges, and watermelon as a side hustle when he retired from the railroad.

And I am not talking about a man who scams women. Or a man who can't help a woman because the women in his family will be jealous.

Won’t give me gas money, but want access to my body, my business mind, and my peace?

Won't give me grocery money, but want me to cook for him?
Negro, please.

I’m sick of these “I’m working on myself” but can’t even work on an oil change type of men. Or let my check engine light stay on. But calling me over for a Netflix and chill.

Some women say, 'I can do it all by myself'—and that's admirable. But what happens when life gets tough? Not just financially, but emotionally, spiritually, when you need real guidance and wisdom? If the man you're with can only offer sex and nothing more, that's not partnership. Real men bring more to the table—they lead, support, protect, and know how to truly treat a woman.

Can’t lead me spiritually. Can’t lead me financially.
Wants me to pour and serve and nurture, but you out here still healing from your 7th-grade crush who ghosted you after gym class?
Sir, get therapy and get out of my face.

I want that old-school alpha love—not this new age “let’s be friends first for 15 years” stuff.

I want a man who:

Fills up my tank without me asking
Keeps the maintenance on my car because he knows I got things to do
Hands me money “just because” and I didn't have to ask him
Claims me in front of God, his mama, his ex, and the whole barbershop
Knows how to break a woman off right and still make it to church Sunday morning because I asked him, but he might not be a regular
Can make executive decisions when it comes to me without his mom's permission

I want a man who talks ish to me playfully, flips money legally now, but still has enough street cred that nobody dares try me.

A man who knows how to put it on me and talk to me while he making love to me.

Give me a man who loves being respected and spoiled—a man I can baby, nurture, and be soft with. Who loves spoiling his wife.

The kind of man who doesn’t flinch when I talk a little mess, just smiles and says, 'I know what you need' or 'I'm going to tame you.' or 'Wait to we home' That’s a different kind of connection. And we all know what I mean by this.....

I want a “we getting married even if that mean we are going to the courthouse tomorrow, and get dressed” type of love.

A man who keeps his word. If he tells he going to do something, It's like a check I can cash it. So if he tells me or ask me to do something I do it without question. Submission is never a problem.

His leadership is everything. A man like that can get anything from me.

A man that says write a down a list of what you want to see this year and I forget but its done.

Not all this I said I was going to do it but failed promises over and over.

I want a protector, a provider, a planner—not a planner that makes PowerPoints but can’t plan our future together or protect me when I say I’m uncomfortable walking alone at night.

All this “wait on God” talk... look, God and I been talking. And I believe in miracles, but he requires action.

I want a man from back in the day—like my granddaddy’s era. Or from an African tribe where they still believe in providing and protecting.

What I Love Most About African Culture? The Men.

Let me tell you something—what I love most about African culture is the way they promote marriage in their family and the way the men move when they want a woman. Baby, they lead. Ain’t no guessing, ain’t no games. A man sees a woman he wants and says with his chest, “You’re going to be mine.”

And no, waiting around for her to chase him. He’s intentional. Confident. Direct. Now, let’s be honest—sometimes she turns him down at first.

His ego isn't bruised. He's a hunter

And you know what he does? He gets strategic. Maybe he embellishes a little (okay, sometimes a lot), makes it look like he’s got it all together. But here’s the twist—if she gives him a chance, and she sees potential, she’ll help him build.

No meant.... Not Yet

But this is where we are in society now:
Men don’t even pretend anymore. They won’t lie, won’t finesse—they’ll straight up tell you, “I don’t have it,” or “I’m not trying to be anything.” And somehow, they expect applause for honesty without accountability.

It’s sad.
There was a time when—a man would lie to you—they at least tried to show up, to impress you. They got creative. Strategic. Maybe they had to borrow it, hustle it, figure it out—but they found a way pay their debt back even it it was late. They made sure you felt like you were worth the trouble.

And he never abandoned the one who was there when he had nothing. There wouldn't be anything he wouldn't do. But more importantly he would sit back and do nothing.

And he doesn't just sit back. Oh no. He brings effort to the table. He’s still courting her—flowers, charm, showing up like she matters. He finds ways to woo her. Even when the money’s not long, the effort is deep.

Then the elevation begins.

He starts taking the lead slowly: driving her to work, filling up her gas tank, making sure her car is running right. Then comes the money for the light bill. Then her nails. Her self-care. Little by little, he’s showing up. Not just as a boyfriend—but as a man building something real.

And finally, when he’s stable, when he feels like he can cover her and keep her—he asks for her hand. Not to split life with her, but to build it together.

That? I can work with.

But this new wave of men—talking about "we’re equal" but still expecting me to submit, split the bills, lead myself, and stroke his ego like he’s King Solomon? Chile, be serious. Don’t tell me you’re the head when I’m the one carrying the weight. If I wanted to be the husband too, I’d marry myself.

If you ain’t got that in you,
If you ain’t a real one,
If you still waiting for a woman to help you become a man—
Please pass me by.

Because I’m not just a vibe. I’m the whole frequency.
And I need a man who can handle all this Queen energy.
Not drain it. Not compete with it.
But cover it. Lead it. Build with it.