Written by Miracle Okah
The first TikTok post I ever saw on feminine energy said women need to “embrace their softness” to attract the kind of man they want. At that time in my life, I was already mentally exhausted from putting other people’s needs before mine, and the idea of using the little energy I had left to be soft for a man was the last thing I wanted to hear, so I just swiped up. However, for an extended period, that single video shaped my entire perception of femininity.
Before writing this piece, I took time to do my research. I listened, watched videos, and read articles—such as How to Embrace Your Feminine Energy in a Masculine World by Anna Heimkreiter, resources from Coach Simona, and pieces on Escape Haven—and reflected on what femininity means to me. Now, I think I know enough to say something about feminine energy, especially what it means to us as Black women.
Contrary to what that TikTok post (and others like it) suggested, the real concept behind feminine energy feels like a long-overdue invitation to Black women.
I am the first daughter in my family, with three younger siblings. I have always had to stand up, fight, show up, and be strong for them just like my mom did, and still does, for us. In many Black homes, strength is passed down from mothers to daughters. We are taught to work twice as hard to be seen or heard, to hustle like men and fight for our space. Any sign of weakness was denied; we were expected to endure and remain resilient, no matter what. So when there is a small chance to soften or rest, it feels like liberation to us.
The idea of reconnecting with our feminine selves, our gentleness, vulnerability, and capacity to receive, really resonates with me. As someone who grew up learning to support, control, lead, and care for others, femininity speaks to a longing that many of us carry: the desire to be held, supported, and safe, without having to prove we are worthy of it.
Thanks to social media platforms like TikTok and Instagram, many women are now awakening to the idea of feminine energy—one that promises emotional rest and romantic success if we learn to speak softly, slow down, spend more time reflecting, and lean into our “divine femininity”. This has helped women feel safe in their bodies again, express their emotions freely, and stop wearing strength like armour.
Stepping into one’s feminine energy means different things to different women. For some, it is a way for them to reconnect with feelings they buried in the name of survival. For others, it is giving themselves permission to be soft, sensual, or receptive without guilt.
For me, it is about letting go of the pressure to always be in control. It is also about embracing all kinds of care—whether it is self-care or care for others—as a powerful act rather than a weakness.
Above all, I see feminine energy as a form of healing. Although we all come from different places and backgrounds, we are tied together by the same patriarchy, capitalism, and racism that have taught us to suppress our emotions. Stepping into our feminine energy is a chance to finally choose softness, rest, pleasure, and emotional safety, particularly for those of us who have been denied these experiences.
I used to hate showing vulnerability because I thought it meant weakness, and I always hated being seen as weak. But my understanding of feminine energy has taught me that it is okay to be open and raw. These days, whenever I feel anxious or overwhelmed, I remind myself to soften, breathe, and stop fighting everything. That has helped me in ways I didn’t expect, and I believe more Black women should have the chance to experience this kind of peace.
That said, as much as I have embraced the discourse around feminine energy, I do have a problem with the way it has been repackaged and sold to us. For instance, the TikTok video I saw took another route entirely and twisted the message into something regressive. There are other content creators who present their version of feminine energy as being quiet, agreeable, and submissive. They ask women not to challenge, lead, or raise their voices. They encourage women to let a man take charge, provide, protect, and even decide on their behalf.
This perspective is pulling us backwards to the life we lived before feminism began fighting for our autonomy. And while these messages can be framed as empowering, they are not. They merely suggest that a woman’s value lies in how appealing she is to men and that the pathway to peace and love is through obedience and silence. This version of feminine energy does not feel like healing at all; it feels like a prettier cage.
So if there is one thing I know for sure, it is that embracing your feminine energy should never mean giving up your voice, your boundaries, or your power. You can be soft without being submissive, and you can be open without losing your direction. This is not a performance, nor is it an act of shrinking yourself for others. Feminine energy is about having the freedom to show up as your full self, depending on what you need at the moment. You don’t need femininity to protect you, and you definitely do not need to abandon your strength to feel loved or seen. What we seek is self-awareness — not self-erasure.
I still see those TikTok videos sometimes, the ones that tell me to sit down, be quiet, and allow a man to take charge. But now, I don’t just swipe up; I reject them outright, and I believe other women should do the same. Thankfully, some Black feminist creators are working to dismantle these messages. For instance, Dr_Zeeta analysed how the idea of embracing femininity for the sake of a man can be detrimental for women and urged women to prioritise their well-being. In her words, “Dear beautiful ladies, do not let the femininity content get into your head to the point where you choose to practice wilful incompetence. It is detrimental to your survival as a woman.”
Similarly, LifeCoachShawn often responds to such videos by reminding women that softness and strength can coexist and that our worth is not dependent on male approval.
At the end of the day, our choices and decisions are all that matter, and no one gets to define them for us.
About the Writer:
Miracle Okah is the first daughter of two teachers. She initially dreamed of becoming a doctor but ultimately found her true calling in writing, where she discovered the power of words over stethoscopes. Passionate about African literature and amplifying the voices of Black women, her work has been featured in Amaka Studio, Black Ballad, Better to Speak, Black Girl X, and beyond. She is on the writing track for the 2025 Adventures Creators Programme.
