Klay, Meg and the Fear of Looking “Soft”

Softness and vulnerability are overdue for a comeback. It’s a matter of health.

Meg and Klay

As someone who’s dated on and off for roughly two decades, nothing has been more devastating than the slow decline in emotional intelligence. Thanks to the social media echo chambers, strong-and-wrong opinions now find a volume of validation they’d never receive in real life, emboldening people to double down instead of grow up. Every tired dating take has an audience, and that noise keeps polluting an already murky dating pool. 

A recent example of this is the brief wave of commentary around a video Megan Thee Stallion posted of her boyfriend, Dallas Mavericks sharpshooter Klay Thompson, picking her up from the airport. Klay, flowers in hand, is visibly flustered and apologetic for being late. It’s a sweet, human moment, but the internet immediately lit him up for being “too soft,” accused Meg of having him in a chokehold, and even blamed her for his slump on the court.

Then came the podcast clip. Former NBA players Patrick Beverley and Jason Williams made lewd comments about Meg and implied she was the reason Klay’s game was off. Klay responded directly on Instagram, writing:

“How would y’all feel if I referred to your wives in such a way?… Do better, fellas. Very disappointing.”

Again, he got clowned. Not just for being in love, but for being protective. For standing up for his partner in public like a grown man.

What does it say about us that this kind of emotional accountability is read as weakness?

We’ve seen this debate play out before, especially when a Black man shows up for a woman in an emotionally honest way and, in turn, is labeled a “simp.” But this estrangement from “softness” isn’t limited to celebrity couples. It shows up in our daily lives, too. I recently stopped talking to a man who ghosted me for 24 hours because I didn’t “heart” his last text. Apparently, his personal rulebook forbade “double texting” or coming off too eager. Maybe that was his version of self-protection, but it’s behavior like this that also makes dating kind of a drag. When did vulnerability become so taboo?

The thing is, intimacy is risky, but it has big rewards. How we build and sustain connections is a big part of our overall wellness. Romantic love, in particular, is one of the biggest predictors of emotional health. Research shows that people in healthy relationships tend to have lower stress, stronger immune systems, and even live longer. 

But when men are taught to fear vulnerability, to avoid “softness,” to treat emotional openness like a weakness, what kind of intimacy can they expect to experience? We’re watching this play out in real time, with a full-blown loneliness epidemic disproportionately affecting men. The U.S. Surgeon General declared loneliness a public health threat, and research shows men, especially straight men, are reporting fewer close friends, less emotional support and more isolation than ever. For Black men, that disconnection is compounded by societal expectations and the pressure to perform a narrower version of masculinity.

Still, this pressure isn’t hitting everyone the same. 

To get another immediate sense of the landscape, I asked Threads this question: “Who do straight Black men talk to when they’re in love? Or when they’re hurt or trying to be better in relationships?” The responses were split. 

Some men admitted they have no one. Others said they lean on happily married friends, women they trust, even therapists. When I asked a friend whether he ever felt the pressure to be “too cool” to be chivalrous, he told me he used to, but not anymore. At 43, he knows that posturing cost him real connections when he was younger. 

So while the commentary around Klay’s behavior may seem trivial, it’s tapping into a deeper cultural script that still teaches young men that strength and emotional openness are mutually exclusive. Whether that message is reinforced by internet trolls, friends, or even some of the women they want to date (because let’s face it, toxic masculinity can be perpetuated by anyone), it's a miseducation that does more harm than good.

Dating has become that proverbial middle school dance floor; boys huddled in one corner and girls in the other. Both afraid to make the first move. Hopefully, we’re inching toward a time where” softness” isn’t considered to be optional in the dating space. 

Bring back romantic gestures, and learning people in real time instead of a one-size-fits-all approach to courtship or defaulting to hiding behind a brick wall. It’s not only boring, but it’s also making us unhealthy.