Men, Your Reaction To Abuse Allegations Says More About You Than You Think

It’s been a heavy week online as stories of abuse involving high-profile men and Black women in the public eye have resurfaced and unfolded in real time. On May 13, singer Cassie Ventura took the stand in the federal trial against Sean “Diddy” Combs, detailing the horrific abuse she experienced during their 10-year relationship. Combs faces charges of racketeering and sex trafficking as prosecutors allege that Combs ran a criminal enterprise built on control, coercion, and exploitation. Cassie, who previously filed a civil lawsuit against Combs in November 2023, is now a key witness in the criminal case. In the same week, news broke that Halle Bailey has been granted a temporary restraining order against her ex-boyfriend, rapper DDG (real name Darryl Dwayne Granberry Jr.), following allegations of domestic abuse. She’s now been given temporary sole custody of their son, Halo Saint, with images from her police report circulating online. Also, after rapper Tory Lanez was reportedly attacked in prison this week, Megan Thee Stallion’s case resurfaced. In 2022, Tory Lanez was convicted of shooting Megan in the foot after a party in 2020 and is now serving a 10-year sentence, bringing back memories of the years of public scrutiny, victim-blaming, and online abuse she faced in the aftermath.

While the bravery of these women has been widely applauded, much of the online conversation that has followed is deeply triggering, especially for those who have been victims of physical, sexual, or emotional abuse. Social media platforms such as X have become forums for some, men in particular, to dismiss, downplay, or even justify the abuse allegations at hand. As a result, many have been confronted with harmful opinions from partners, family members, and friends as these stories of abuse have unfolded. As one X user shared: “Emphasizing to women, especially the young ones, that a basic litmus test for a man you’re considering dating is to ask him his thoughts on Tory, Diddy, R Kelly, DDG, etc." ​​

The internet has become an increasingly unsafe space for mature, empathetic discussions about the dynamics between an alleged victim and their abusers. When news broke about Halle Bailey’s restraining order against DDG, the response online was full of skepticism and ridicule. One man on X wrote, “She lyin on him, I don’t even believe this shit. DDG don’t even give off women-beater energy.” This wasn’t an isolated comment. Across social media, similar posts pointed to past allegations by DDG’s ex, Rubi Rose, to argue Halle “should have known better.”

The unspoken message here is clear: because she chose to enter a relationship with someone previously accused of abuse, she should have expected — and therefore deserved — any abuse that followed. Victim blaming always shifts accountability away from the alleged abuser and suggests that a woman’s decision to love or trust someone somehow invalidates her right to safety.

Another X user wrote, “I love Halle, but she’s not perfect. She’s constantly using her female privilege over him, and it’s beyond visible at this point.” It’s a telling comment, one that twists concern for a woman’s safety into an accusation of manipulation. “Female privilege” seemingly implies that women can weaponize their victimhood or control the narrative to their advantage. But the reality, as ironically proven by this tweet, is quite the opposite.

These reactions mirror talking points found in the online manosphere, the network of forums, podcasts, and content creators who frame women, especially Black women, as manipulative and deceitful. As we know, these ideas don’t just stay online; they’re echoed in comment sections, barbershops, and group chats, shaping how some men justify abuse.

Another common theme in online reactions this week is the belief that women somehow invite abuse or shame upon themselves because of their choices around sex and relationships. This kind of thinking frames women as sexual deviants who have brought trouble on themselves. We’ve seen the tweets from men questioning whether Cassie’s husband, Alex Fine, should leave her, as if surviving abuse makes her unworthy of love. Others shame Halle for having a child outside of marriage, as though that decision invalidates her right to safety and dignity. These reactions reflect a deeper, insidious belief: that “good” women don’t end up in these situations, and if they do, it’s because they somehow deserve it. 

People online are all too excited to score gotcha moments and throw around moral judgments meant to humble women. It’s really just victim-blaming, and a lot of this is reminiscent of red pill ideology, a belief that paints women as using sex and emotions to control men. In this vein, a woman’s right to safety is always up for debate, conditional, and depends largely on how she behaves. 

Many of the online responses that have been so disappointing are, unsurprisingly, rooted in misogynoir — a form of misogyny directed specifically at Black women, shaped by both anti-Blackness and sexism. Misogynoir casts Black women as less innocent, more sexually deviant, and ultimately more deserving of harm. These ideas can be traced back to colonial narratives that hypersexualized Black women, stripping them of the femininity, vulnerability, and presumed victimhood that are more readily extended to white women.

Sona Barbosa, Head of Therapeutic Services at Woman’s Trust, says this kind of language online has real-world consequences. She explains how public narratives can fuel longstanding patterns, telling Unbothered: “The language we are observing reflects a long-standing pattern of idolizing successful Black men, while quickly doubting, diminishing, and demonizing women—especially Black women—who stand up for themselves and reclaim their power in the face of violence and abuse.”

She says this situation puts Black survivors at a “double disadvantage”. In abusive relationships, already-complex cultural and economic pressures are compounded by narratives that sow doubt and shame. According to Sona, “this trend poses an even greater threat, as white men observe the responses of Black men and feel empowered to treat Black women in similar ways.”

All of this has reiterated the need to support women and girls, build a society that’s actually safe for us, and make sure victims get justice, because one person’s success should never come at the expense of others in our community.

Back in 2020, I read Men Who Hate Women by Laura Bates and it opened my eyes to something I’ve since seen for myself; misogyny online don’t just stay hidden in obscure corners of the internet like incel forums, Reddit threads and 4chan. A lot of toxicity has filtered into the mainstream, influencing how the boys and men around us talk in group chats, among themselves, and when commenting on high-profile cases like the ones that have filled our news feeds this week.

What we’re seeing online is making many of us look more closely at the men in our lives; listening carefully, side-eyeing, correcting, and for some, even rethinking a friendship or two. For me, the way the men around me speak about or dismiss abuse tells me where they stand, how safe and supported I really am, and whether I can trust them. So it’s no surprise to see Black women online saying they’re cutting ties when certain friends show who they truly are.

To my fellow Black women, this week has been a lot. It’s okay if you need to step back, log off, and take care of yourself.