The Real Cost of Being a Male-Identified Woman

There is a recurring heartbreak in witnessing women publicly suffer at the hands of men they were once warned about — not because they deserved it, but because it lays bare a brutal truth many don’t want to face: women often don’t believe other women until they have to. Until it’s them. Until the bruises aren’t metaphorical. Until the gaslighting burns through their own skin.

Halle Bailey is not the first woman to believe she was “different.” And she won’t be the last. Halle Bailey’s relationship with DDG (Darryl Dwayne Granberry Jr.) followed a hauntingly familiar arc. Court documents detail the emotional and physical abuse that led to her receiving a restraining order. But before Halle spoke out, another woman — Rubi Rose — had already sounded the alarm. The public ridiculed her. Dismissed. Called “devil.” A woman scorned. A hater. And by whom? Not just men — but, very publicly, Halle Bailey herself.

Related | Halle Bailey Granted Restraining Order Against Ex DDG

The Danger of Male-Identified Feminism

This is the real cost of being a male-identified woman — a woman who, knowingly or not, sees the world through the eyes of men. Who aligns herself with male narratives, even when those narratives disparage, endanger, and destroy other women. A woman who defends her man against the “crazy ex,” who believes love makes her an exception, not a statistic. A woman who gives grace to abusers while vilifying their previous victims.

But it’s not just a personal failing. It’s the design of patriarchy. Patriarchy thrives when women mistake proximity to power for power itself. When they believe being chosen by a man makes them superior to women who have been discarded. When they assume they can love a man into softness, obedience, or respect. But patriarchy has no loyalty. Sooner or later, it comes for everyone.

Related | DDG Weaponized the Pain He Caused Halle Bailey in Custody battle

Let’s be clear: Halle Bailey is a victim. No one deserves abuse. The pain she’s experiencing is not karmic — it is a consequence of a system that teaches women to ignore warnings, invalidate other women, and prioritize men’s reputations over their own safety. Empathy is not optional here — but neither is accountability.

This moment is not just about her. It’s about us.
We have to stop rewarding the brand of feminism that only shows up for women after they suffer. People often show “solidarity” only after trauma, but they stay silent when a woman speaks out early. Rubi Rose wasn’t perfect — but that’s exactly the point. She shouldn’t have had to be to be believed.

Related | Misogyny and Abuse – Why Victims Face Blame While Abusers Thrive

Why Empathy Without Accountability Isn’t Enough

We need to talk about the many Halle Baileys who walk among us — women who defend violent men because they think they’re different. Women who think feminism is for the unfortunate, not for them. Women who, until something happens to them, think other women are exaggerating, bitter, or delusional.
We also need to say this clearly: Women uphold patriarchy, too. Not because they choose to betray other women, but because society has taught them to survive that way. Aligning with men has historically offered security, protection, validation. But it’s also come at a cost — one that gets paid in silence, isolation, and betrayal.

It is not betrayal to call this out. It is not anti-woman to say that some women do harm. It is feminist to say that we can hold both pain and responsibility at once — that we can protect women from violence and still push them to interrogate how they may have enabled that violence against others.