FY Society

I never understood the fuss about the royals. Then Meghan Markle came along.

  • Respect (0%)
  • Funny (0%)
  • Disappointment (0%)
  • Anger (0%)
  • Stress (0%)
  • Whatever (0%)
Memorabilia celebrating the wedding between Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are for sale in a gift shop in Windsor, west of London, on May 8. (Daniel Leal-Olivas/AFP/Getty Images)

A year and a half ago, I left my life in sunny California to move to London, where I, an opinionated, loud-talking American working in the entertainment industry, married a British man. He wasn’t a prince, but he felt like one to me, and I’ve since attempted to understand British life and history, much of which is entrenched in inexplicable traditions — none of which are more inexplicable to me than the country’s enduring fascination with all things royal.

I’ve never understood the appeal of the royal family, nor have I succumbed to the obsession around their existence. My mother-in-law knows all that can be known about the royal family and can explain every detail of their history. But I’ve never been able to connect. I didn’t tune in when Kate Middleton married Prince William; I watched “The Crown” only because I’d been hired to write articles about it. I constantly ask my friends and family in England to explain why the royal family matters and why they care. I didn’t, at least not until the arrival of Meghan Markle.

The media has made much of the stark juxtaposition of Markle and her new in-laws. The British royal family is rooted in centuries of rigid, historical tradition. Markle is American — from free-spirited California, home of avocado toast and kale — and she’s divorced, biracial and opinionated. She wants a wedding cake that veers far off course from the fruit cakes of yore. She’s a working actress. And she’s older than Prince Harry, a fact that is apparently jarring to many. To an older generation (and some younger ones), these facts are not viewed positively. But Markle is a reminder that life doesn’t have to go exactly one way. And that’s a good thing.

My husband is 10 years younger than me, a fact that only becomes apparent when I make an ’80s reference and then realize he wasn’t alive in the ’80s. Most people don’t know our age difference unless they’re explicitly told (and then the reaction is typically a shocked open mouth, followed by a drawn out “What…?”). I don’t find the fact that I’m a decade further into existence than


READ MORE @

Facts are under attack! Support Real Journalism.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/posteverything/wp/2018/05/17/i-never-understood-the-fuss-about-the-royals-then-meghan-markle-came-along/

share this with your people

FY Society explores American society with original content and analysis, as well as through the lens of curated news and articles.

We are simply trying to tell a story. Our story, the story of America past and present–who we are and how we got here, and perhaps more importantly: where we are going. We have a whole lot more in store, however, so please consider helping us in that effort by visiting the FY Store, or with a donation via Patreon.

WE NEED YOUR SUPPORT:

Leave a Reply

Close Menu