Posted on 10/02/2022 12:41:55 PM PDT by bitt
The conditions are right for confession. It is a beautiful August day in Montecito, in a beautiful sitting room, in a beautiful home. Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor, a lively 3-year-old with a shock of ginger curls identical to his father’s, toddles into the room demanding “Momma” listen to his heartbeat with a wooden toy stethoscope. He stands, tummy protruding, while his mother, Meghan, convincingly performs her glee at hearing the thump-thump, thump-thump in his chest. Archie giggles and, satisfied, toddles right back out again.
Meghan, relaxing in a cozy chair, gazes over all that is climate-controlled and high-ceilinged and sun-dappled and perfectly marshmallowy, and hers. An invisible hand has lit a Soho House–branded rose-water candle (the founder, Nick Jones, is a friend from “long before I met Harry,” she says), and that scent fills the air, mingling with the gentle tones of a flamenco-inflected guitar floating from a speaker. Then, in the lull in conversation, Meghan turns to me and leans forward to ask in a conspiratorial hush, “Do you want to know a secret?”
Meghan, silenced no more, looks around, making sure nobody (who would be?) is listening in. Then the top-secret drop: “I’m getting back … on Instagram,” she says, her eyes alight and devilish.
This could have been a troll: Delivering a nothing with such gravitas feels as if Meghan, who has been so trolled by the media, is serving it back, just a little. But, as I quickly realize, it is actually news. Before this chapter in her life, before everything difficult that spun off from marrying the Duke of Sussex and, along with him, the British monarchy, she was just Meghan Markle, a woman with a plum role on a USA procedural and a moderately popular lifestyle blog, The Tig. As herself, she’d amassed 3 million Instagram followers by sharing snippets of a basic life: yoga, food she liked, hikes with friends, her beagle, Guy. Fans watched as she attended events with her Suits castmates and charity galas, nights out at Soho House in London and Toronto. She ran that account for years before she met Harry, but on the heels of their engagement, control over her Instagram was just one of the things (along with The Tig, her passport, and the freedom to open her own mail) she gave up. She’d loved sharing her life with people, she says, but she loved Harry more. “It was a big adjustment — a huge adjustment to go from that kind of autonomy to a different life,” says Meghan.
...more blech...
long, slightly critical article about the succubus..
“...she was just Meghan Markle; Gold Digger.”
Fixed!
Give me a break.
who cares?
“She’d loved sharing her life with people...”
Who, in their right mind, could conceivably care less.
Duchess of Nothingness.
lol! Her next act? Convincing Harry the jarhead to release all the b.s. as is while he is doing, at least what’s being reported, a 180 regarding his ‘memoir’ (eyeroll here). For Meeghan, outside of trashing the RF, there is no next act.
“He stands, tummy protruding, while his mother, Meghan, convincingly performs her glee at hearing the thump-thump, thump-thump in his chest. Archie giggles and, satisfied, toddles right back out again.”
How could anyone “perform” through their entire life? Yet isn’t that what royalty condemns a person to? I’m sure some types would love that job but to me it’d be a living Hell.
I thought heartbeats and babies weren’t supposed to be related.
“silenced no more”
Did she ever shut up?
Why is this American negress still with title? She’s appropriated something from a culture and a people to which she doesn’t belong. Harry destroyed his bloodline with he mates with her.
Waiting for her continued bad-mouthing of her adopted country.
Would you care if the Harkles are using Harry’s visa status to avoid paying US income taxes...?
Blech alert was appropriate. Actually made me throw up a little retch reading about this big wretch.
I couldn’t read the whole thing, much less the original.
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