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There’s a good chance that if you’ve spent time scrolling through TikTok lately, you’ve come across Kya, the 23-year-old cooking sensation whose blend of humor, fashion, and no-frills recipes has captivated millions. She’s the kind of content creator who makes you pause your doomscrolling and say, “Wow, this is refreshing.” But as is often the case with meteoric rises, her newfound fame hasn’t come without backlash.
As someone who’s spent over a decade entrenched in food culture—dining at over 4,000 Black-owned restaurants, food writing for both local and national publications, and launching award-winning restaurants in various cities—I’ve seen plenty of trends come and go. And yet, Kya’s charm felt different. Her meals are simple, her demeanor approachable, and her creativity undeniably authentic. Watching her content, I saw not just a talented young woman, but a new representation of young Black femininity that is sorely needed. I enjoyed her adorable jingle and her little dance in a lite hearted manner, not in the creepy Shaq and Angel Reese interview way.
But not everyone sees it that way.
From Stardom to Scrutiny
Kya’s rise on TikTok was meteoric, her follower count soaring past a million in what felt like the blink of an eye. Her secret? A seamless blend of cooking, comedy, and a light touch of sensuality—the kind that’s more charm than shock value like Sexyy Red, Lizzo, and City Girls. It’s the kind of content that’s both relatable and entertaining, resonating with a broad audience, including an unexpectedly large demographic of young Black men. But that, apparently, was part of the problem.
The critics came quickly, accusing her of being a “pick-me,” a modern slang term for women perceived to be catering to male validation, rather than acknowledging the mass Black male approval of the content of a natural positive young Black woman influencer. Never mind that her content lacks the vulgarity and hypersexuality that often dominate the algorithm—Kya’s humor, authenticity, and natural presentation were suddenly up for debate. For some, her popularity was a problem simply because men liked her content too much.
What’s Really at Play?
And yet, the backlash came almost as swiftly as her rise. Kya has been accused of “pick-me” behavior—a term used to describe women perceived as seeking male approval through their actions or demeanor. Her critics argue that her content caters to the male gaze, diminishing her authenticity and positioning her as complicit in reinforcing outdated gender norms. But this critique misses a larger point: Kya’s work is a celebration of agency, not a plea for validation. Her videos are not just cooking tutorials; they’re a blend of culinary skill, personality, and self-expression—a recipe that clearly resonates with her audience, particularly young Black men.
This criticism reveals deeper tensions within the Black community. Black women, historically scrutinized under a harsher societal lens, often face immense pressure to counteract negative stereotypes. For some, Kya’s lighthearted approach might seem frivolous in the face of systemic struggles. But such judgments fail to recognize the diversity of Black womanhood. Kya’s content does not diminish the seriousness of dismantling systemic oppression; instead, it offers a moment of joy, creativity, and representation that is equally vital.
The accusations of “pick-me” behavior also underscore the gendered policing of Black women’s expressions. By framing Kya’s success as reliant on male approval, her detractors reduce her multifaceted work to a singular, dismissive narrative. This critique robs her of agency and disregards the possibility that her choices reflect her own goals and preferences. It also perpetuates a harmful dynamic where Black women’s success is endlessly scrutinized and diminished by their own community, often as a projection of unresolved frustrations and systemic struggles.
The Power of Representation
Despite these challenges, Kya’s work continues to flourish. Her content—playful yet earnest, simple yet impactful—challenges traditional ideas about how Black women should present themselves. She offers a vision of femininity that is both aspirational and accessible, reminding her audience that authenticity is a powerful currency. Her success also challenges the narrative that Black men do not appreciate the natural beauty and individuality of Black women. The enthusiastic support she receives from her male audience is a counterpoint to stereotypes and a testament to her broad appeal.
What’s truly refreshing about Kya is that she’s not trying to reinvent the wheel. Her meals are the kind anyone can replicate, and her content is rooted in joy. She offers a kind of representation that’s often missing from media dominated by extremes—a reminder that young Black women can define success on their own terms. In an era where so much of what goes viral is steeped in shock value, Kya’s lighthearted allure, traditional values, and a soulful approach that almost feels revolutionary.
Yet her success also challenges narratives about what Black men appreciate. Her largest audience, by her own admission, is young Black men. And why shouldn’t it be? Her natural beauty, humor, and culinary skills fly in the face of the stereotype that Black men only value the exaggerated (physical body alterations) or non-Black women. Instead, Kya’s success underscores the diversity of what resonates within the Black community as whole. It’s her hate that has sprung this conversation given that there are several beautiful Black women who cook on social media but has not been the target of such disdain.
A Call for Compassion
In a social media era dominated by shock value and performative outrage, Kya’s authenticity is a breath of fresh air. Her ability to inspire conversation—whether through her cooking, her humor, or her unapologetic self-expression—is a reminder of the power of platforms like TikTok to amplify diverse voices. But it’s also a call to action for those of us who watch from the sidelines. Rather than tearing down young creators, we should celebrate their contributions, offer constructive criticism, and create spaces where they can thrive.
The story of “Cooking with Kya” is not just about one young woman’s rise to fame. It’s a broader commentary on how we engage with Black women’s creativity, agency, and representation in a digital age. Kya’s journey reminds us that there is no singular way to define success or authenticity. Her work—at the intersection of culture, cuisine, and comedy—is a testament to the richness and complexity of Black womanhood. Let us honor that complexity, celebrate her triumphs, and, most importantly, ensure that young creators like Kya have the support they need to continue shaping our cultural narrative.
