Single, Celibate, and Seasoned: Victoria Monét Gets Real With Scott Evans
Victoria Monét pulled up to Scott Evans’ house with a new album, a new tour, and a culinary degree. She left behind a masterclass in what it looks like when a Black woman chooses herself. Over shrimp tacos, a pineapple-basil cocktail cheekily named the “Monét in the Bank,” and a blender full of her everything cilantro sauce, the Grammy winner got candid about motherhood, heartbreak, healing, and her new album, Frequency of Love.
It was funny. It was tender. And it reminded us that a soft era can also be a strong one.
From Jaguar Claws to Butterfly Wings
If Jaguar was Victoria on the hunt, Frequency of Love is Victoria at rest, and she knows it. “I had something to prove with Jaguar,” she told Scott. “My claws were out.” She described herself as a huntress racing toward a goal, ready to bite down with the fiercest bite in the jungle.
This time, she had to soften into what she called a “caterpillar butterfly softness.” Even culinary school played a part, since she couldn’t wear her signature vintage almond nails in the kitchen. Losing those literal claws became a metaphor for “attracting things versus chasing them.”
Somebody tell every Black woman who has been taught she must work twice as hard: you’re allowed to exhale. Victoria acknowledged that culturally, we carry that hunting energy because we have to fight harder for the same respect and accolades. Choosing softness isn’t giving up. It’s trusting that what’s yours will find you.
The Healing Was the Homework
The 22-track album moves through familial love, romantic love, and even a little love of money. It maps the three years after her Grammy wins, a stretch that brought “a totally new level of pressure.” Stressed and spread thin, she found healing in breath work, tai chi, boxing, and culinary school, the side quests that saved her mental space.
Traditional therapy didn’t fit her schedule, so she built her own toolkit, including honest conversations and refusing to hold things in. Mel Robbins’ The Let Them Theory became a lifeline while people shifted in and out of her life. Her mantra? Let them. You can’t control it anyway.
Hazel Comes First. Period.
Victoria lights up talking about Hazel, born February 21, 2021, in the thick of the pandemic. She remembers delivering in a mask, going to appointments alone, washing mail with Dawn, and making a great-aunt wear a full hazmat suit to hold the baby. “The claws were out,” she laughed. “I have to protect this child.”
That instinct hasn’t gone anywhere. Hazel gets the bed cuddles, weekly farmers market dates, and bedtime songs Victoria improvises like a Disney princess. Anyone she dates won’t meet Hazel until it’s certain, because her daughter doesn’t need to be exposed to any mistakes. That’s not guarded. That’s grown.
Rewriting the Fairy Tale
The most moving moment came when Scott apologized for comments he once made to Victoria and Hazel’s father, John, at a Beyoncé event about what their relationship represented for Black love. He’d since realized that praise, however loving, can become an image people feel pressured to uphold.
Victoria met him with pure grace. She didn’t feel pressure, she explained, because nothing anyone said could make up for what was lacking; that was for the two of them to determine. They’re separated because Hazel’s parents need different things, and finding the best balance for her requires it. Still, she added, “Our story is not over.”
Then she flipped the whole narrative. She wants to show that you can start over and still have a fairy tale ending, “even if there’s never a person.” A modern Disney story, she suggested, could star a single mom whose great love is her family and her work. Somebody greenlight that.
Single, Celibate, and Not Pressed
Is she dating? Not right now. Victoria shared that she’s been celibate, growing spiritually and reserving her energy for her work and her daughter. Any future partner would have to be extra special, since Hazel comes first, then friends and family. She joked that her song “Single” is her mating call.
And no, she isn’t letting the internet’s early hate on that hook define it. She welcomes critique; she just wants it delivered nicely. Some folks, she said, are simply on “the frequency of hater.” Respectfully? Noted.
Pull Up While It’s Intimate
Victoria is keeping this tour close, with smaller venues and fair ticket prices, even investing her own money to make it happen. “It’s not a money grab,” she said. She wants to meet the people riding with her now, before the rest of the world catches on.
They will. Between a cookie-fueled studio session that summoned Leon Thomas within an hour and a SZA feature that nearly made Scott break his phone, this era is stacked.
The Takeaway
Victoria Monét isn’t performing healing; she’s living it, unhung paintings leaning against the wall and all. Her message is clear: you can put down the claws, protect your peace, love your babies loudly, and still be the main character in a story that isn’t over.
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