When Black Celebs Get Pregnant, They Don’t Need Your Opinion

Navigating pregnancy as a woman in entertainment is not always a peaceful time of impending joy. The moment is often overshadowed by criticism from those who project their own beliefs onto them. On November 27, rapper Flo Milli announced her pregnancy to her fans after previously explaining that the recent weight gain many noticed in a video she posted on social media was due to bloating. As we've seen with other celebrities like Cardi B, Skai Jackson, and Halle Bailey, there is a heightened stigma surrounding young, successful Black women choosing to embrace motherhood, especially during what many consider their prime years. The harsh criticism usually targets their choice of partner and age, perpetuating the notion that becoming a mother hinders their success. Needless to say, your public judgment isn't needed; it's invasive and invalid. Plus, it's none of your business. 

In a society that claims to have moved beyond outdated misogynistic standards, the backlash of these women highlights the lack of support for those choosing to embrace the concept of "having it all": defining their own success while also pursuing motherhood. To me, this reinforces the double standards placed on Black women, who are often expected to "have it all" but are chastised for taking control of their lives in ways that feel authentic to them. The digital world often theoretically celebrates choice yet still judges young women harshly (i.e., Megan Thee Stallion) for making decisions that reflect their own agency. Like women before her, Flo Milli is living life on her terms. Shouldn't we respect that instead of criticizing it?

The continuous conversations involving Flo Milli's pregnancy announcement, as well as complaints about the father of her child and her age (24), has led many to believe that having a child at this point in her career—especially after the success of her single "Never Lose Me"—could hinder her ongoing momentum she's built over the last six years. This logic echoes the same outdated rhetoric repeatedly directed at other women, specifically Black women in the entertainment industry.

For instance, take Halle Bailey. From the beginning of her relationship with rapper DDG, fans criticized her for dating him, particularly intensifying during her pregnancy. Many people spent months uterus watching as she "hid" her pregnancy before the birth of their son, Halo. Many felt her career was becoming overshadowed by her personal choices. Despite this, Halle has gone on to successfully star in two major films, including Disney's The Little Mermaid, and continues to pursue her music career. Most recently, she received her first Grammy nomination as a solo artist for her single "Angel."

Similarly, Cardi B faced even more intense scrutiny when she announced her pregnancy with her daughter Kulture at the height of promoting her debut album, Invasion of Privacy. Many critics, including some fans, believed her career would immediately be a wrap. However, she became one of the most successful mainstream rap stars of the last decade and a pop culture icon. Cardi won a Grammy and made history as the first female solo artist to win the Grammy Award for Best Rap Album, all while being a mother of three and maintaining her relevance in an industry quick to write off and often seeks to dismiss unapologetic Afro-Latina women.

Even Skai Jackson couldn't escape social media scrutiny. After fans on TikTok discovered the identity of her child's father, they also uncovered information about his background, including his other children and a criminal record. Social media users even went as far as finding a Facebook video of him being dismissive toward her and their unborn child. The obsession with judging these women's personal choices has increased the assumptions that their decisions will derail their careers. 

These women are often expected to prioritize their success (or what others perceive to be) over personal fulfillment, particularly when it comes to motherhood as if one must come at the expense of the other. This perspective stems from a patriarchal belief that women's success should remain uninterrupted by "distractions," such as relationships with men deemed not of their same caliber or the demands of children who require more time and patience. 

Young Black mothers feel this judgment even more intensely because of the intersection of their race and age. They are frequently labeled as being irresponsible or unprepared, which is enveloped in racial stereotypes. This negative perception undermines a well-documented reality of what we know to be true: Black women have been balancing both personal and professional lives with selfless resilience for generations, even when we don't want to be resilient. At the same time, men—regardless of race, age, or financial status—are not questioned to the same extent in our patriarchal society.

The fixation on speculating whether a celebrity is pregnant is also a blend of public entitlement and invasive curiosity. Rihanna, for instance, faced constant rumors about pregnancy for years before announcing her first pregnancy in 2022. From her relationship with Chris Brown in the late 2000s to her billionaire ex-boyfriend Hassan Jameel, and now with A$AP Rocky, fans and blogs have relentlessly speculated about her personal life even down to when she'll get pregnant again following the back-to-back births of her sons Riot and RZA. These claims, often sparked by a slight change in appearance, wearing certain attire, or while these women are in public relationships, reduce their dedication to their craft to a public debate over their wombs. 

Beyoncé experienced this same speculation in the early 2010s from blogs about her being pregnant, even though she had privately endured a miscarriage, which she later revealed in her documentary, Life Is But a Dream. When she finally announced her pregnancy in 2012, conspiracy theorists cruelly alleged she was faking it. During an interview, they used a misleading camera angle to suggest that her stomach appeared flat underneath a loose-fitting dress. And nobody possibly understands this sense of entitled behavior more than Janet Jackson. 

During her marriage to James DeBarge in the 1980s, rumors circulated about a child she supposedly hid. These rumors were fueled by everything from her fluctuating weight to claims of an abortion and even claims that her niece Stevanna, Randy Jackson's daughter, was Janet's and was raised by her sister, Rebbie. However, these claims are false. The accusations became so pervasive that Janet felt the need to address them directly in her 2022 Lifetime documentary, where she firmly denied the allegations. This repeated invasion into Black women's personal lives reflects a historical tendency to view their Black bodies and choices as communal property. Recently, rapper Latto has also been added to the growing list of women rumored to be pregnant because they may not fit into a size 2 or 4 at a given moment.

As Black women in the spotlight, their value in society can also feel linked to their ability to remain marketable to an audience that doesn't view them in totality. To truly embrace their fullest potential, Black women should be allowed to be free — free to pursue their ambitions and build or reconstruct their lives on their own terms. This is especially true as they strive to succeed in a world designed to doubt them, from pay inequities to workplace discrimination and societal biases that assume failure before they've even had a chance to learn the balancing act of life.

According to Narrow The Gap, women in arts, design, entertainment, sports, and media occupations who worked full-time made 92 cents to the dollar men earned in 2023. Recent studies conducted by the CDC indicate the average woman or birthing person has their first child near the age of 27-28, which is a record high in the country. With an increase in women's focus on higher education and careers, there's been a delay in parenting among young women. For Black women, the average age for having their first child is 25. These statistics contradict the harmful narrative that motherhood hinders young women's ambitions, rather than being a choice that can coexist with other life goals.

Balancing motherhood and a career at a young age isn't easy, but it's more than possible. For women in America, this is a daily reality. What Flo Milli needs isn't criticism or baseless predictions of failure from strangers who know nothing about her outside of her media persona; instead, she deserves the space to navigate her life without judgment or unsolicited opinions. We're all grown as hell. It's time we let go of outdated narratives about what Black women can and cannot achieve. Let the girls rewrite the script of motherhood—if they choose to pursue that path—and redefine modern success. It's time.