Wait what’s Insecure?

Insecure is a critically acclaimed HBO series created by Issa Rae that ran from 2016 to 2021. Set in South Los Angeles, the show follows Issa Dee, a twenty-something Black woman navigating her career, friendships, love life, and identity with humor, vulnerability, and hella awkward moments.Loosely based on Rae’s hit web series The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl, Insecure explores the everyday highs and lows of Black millennial life without stereotypes or clichés. It’s a show about growth, missteps, and the messiness of becoming, featuring a brilliant cast, a flawless soundtrack, and a raw, relatable perspective on what it means to be young, gifted, and a little unsure of yourself.

A show that let us be

From the very first episode of Insecure, I felt something shift. Not because it tried to be deep, or preachy, or overly political. But because it didn’t try to be anything but real.

Issa Dee, played by Issa Rae, wasn’t the Strong Black Woman. She wasn’t an archetype. She was awkward. Unsure. Hilarious. Gorgeous. Sometimes petty. Sometimes poetic.

She wasn’t “goals,” she was just her.And in a world that often only offers us extremes suffering or excellence, struggle or slay seeing a Black woman allowed to stumble, cringe, laugh, cry, and self-sabotage on screen felt like a form of freedom.

The complexity of being seen

Insecure doesn’t shout Black identity at you.It breathes it.

It whispers it in the details:

The way Issa switches code when she’s at work, then slips right back into her real voice with Molly. The music blasting from the car stereo (SZA, Ari, Kendrick, Brent Faiyaz all woven in like memory). The way the girls talk in slang that isn’t explained, but simply exists. The way Lawrence wears a hoodie to the job interview and you can feel the stakes.No filter. Just life.

And that’s what Black identity is: nuanced, in-between, everyday. Not always revolutionary but always rooted.

Friendships that felt like ours

The heart of the show isn’t romance it’s friendship.

Issa and Molly are complicated, messy, hilarious, and loving in a way that so many of us have felt but rarely seen on screen.They argue, disappoint each other, cross lines and still, they try.It’s a reminder that Black women’s friendships deserve depth.

We deserve to be vulnerable with each other.To be imperfect. To grow apart, and maybe back together.To admit we’re hurt. To be held.Black sisterhood is rarely soft in the media. Insecure gave us that softness. That emotional honesty. That room.

The soundtrack is everything

From Noname to Jazmine Sullivan, every track felt like a diary entry.Black music isn’t just background in Insecure it’s emotion. It’s identity.

It’s the scene where Issa’s crying in the mirror while Ari Lennox hums in the back.It’s the way a beat drops right after someone gets curved.It’s the soundtrack doing what Black music always does, holding us through every stage of becoming.

Black Girlhood, without the apology

What Insecure gave us especially young Black women is rare:

A show where the jokes sound like the ones we make. A setting where the city (South L.A.) is a character, not just a backdrop. A cast that didn’t feel like diversity it felt like us.It gave space to be unsure of your job, unsure of your worth, unsure of your relationship and still be seen as valuable.

Still be full of potential. Still be loved.

What Insecure taught me about me

Watching Insecure made me think about the ways I edit myself.

The masks I wear. The moments I shrink.But also the joy I find in small things music, outfits, deep talks with my girls, messy moments that become stories later.Issa Rae didn’t just give us a show she gave us a mirror.And not the kind that flatters. The kind that honors.

The kind that says:

“You’re not alone. You’re not crazy. You’re figuring it out. And that’s beautiful.”

In the end we’re all becoming Issa

Insecure ends the way life does:

Not with a perfect resolution, but with movement.Growth. Grace. Uncertainty.And maybe that’s what Black identity really is not a destination, but a process. Not a performance, but a becoming.Messy, brilliant, hilarious, painful, and always ours.

Until next time,
see you next week guys!!

Perrine 

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