One of my all-time favorite jazz tunes is "My Man." “My Man” is, in many ways, a love song about endurance, not just devotion.Billie Holiday, the
One of my all-time favorite jazz tunes is “My Man.”
“My Man” is, in many ways, a love song about endurance, not just devotion.
Billie Holiday, the original vocal artist (as far as I am aware) sings it with such tenderness that it feels romantic on the surface. But underneath, the lyrics reveal a woman who endures neglect, disrespect, and even harm because she believes her love — and her loyalty — require it.
Lines like:
He isn’t true, he beats me too — but I love him.
That’s not softness. That’s survival language. That’s conditioning. (Ms. Howard was a Survivor of childhood abuse and she brought that pain to her music. She longed for love without conditions. She longed to be seen and heard beyond the lens of an adoring audience.)
So, that’s a woman trying to explain to the world (and herself) why she stays.
For many women of Billie’s era, choices were brutally limited:
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social pressure to stay loyal
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fear of abandonment
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longing for tenderness anywhere it could be found
Whether it is Ms. Holiday, Ms. Ross or Ms. Howard; the women sing it like they know exactly what’s happening… and are still trapped inside the story. You can hear the ache. The weariness. The resignation. And also the hope — the part of her that still longs to be loved well.
That’s part of why the song hits so deeply.
It carries:
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beauty
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vulnerability
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danger
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truth
It invites compassion for the woman — but also raises a question for listeners:
What have we been taught to accept in the name of love?
And here’s the forward-looking piece:
Today, we get to honor Billie — and every woman like her — not by romanticizing the suffering, but by saying:
Love doesn’t require bruises.
Loyalty should not cost a woman her safety, her dignity, or her peace. And this applies with platonic relationships, co-workers, family, fellow church members, and allies.
Loyalty is Not Silence, Self-Erasure, or Surrender
One of the greatest qualities about women is our ability to persevere and endure through the life’s worst challenges. That can be a double-edge sword though.
We can be loyal to others and still expect safety, dignity, and peace. Loyalty without boundaries becomes captivity.
People sometimes expect loyalty to mean silence, self-erasure, or enduring harm “for the greater good.” But acceptance — the healthy kind — simply means:
I see what is real. I respond with wisdom. I protect my peace while staying rooted in truth.
It does not mean:
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tolerating disrespect
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ignoring harm (or even the potential)
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shrinking to keep someone comfortable
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abandoning yourself to “keep the peace”
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excusing cruelty because someone means well or shares your cause
True loyalty is mutual. It cares for both hearts in the room …….at the same time. If someone asks you to sacrifice your safety, dignity, or peace to prove devotion, they aren’t asking for loyalty — they’re asking for submission.
And we are no longer giving that away.
Here’s a grounding reminder you can return to:
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I can love people.
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I can support people.
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I can walk beside people.
And I can still keep my boundaries uncompromised.
Because:
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Peace is not negotiable.
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Self-respect is not negotiable.
Anyone worthy of closeness will honor those things, even when it stretches them.
This version is sung by the phenomenal Miki Howard. You can hear the weariness in Ms. Howard’s voice that is still hanging on to a bit of hope.
You owe it to yourself to watch Diana Ross‘ performance along with Richard Pryor and Billie Dee Williams in the film “Lady Sings the Blues” at least once. Nearly 20 years later Diana Ross, backed by some of the most amazing jazz musicians of that time, Ms. Ross treated fans to this live performance. Her moving performance of “My Man” begins at 1:18. Berry Gordy himself (icon isn’t a big enough word for either of these two), who directed her in LStB, was in the audience.