A Kitchen, A Duchess, and the Online Mob That Wants Her to Fail
We’re living in wildly unhinged times. So unhinged that reality feels like an over-stylized, black-and-white film — one where billionaire oligarchs call the shots, power is auctioned off to the highest bidder, and society itself has morphed into a bitter, jilted ex, hellbent on watching everyone fail.
Which brings me to the bizarre, unrelenting discourse surrounding Meghan (formerly Markle), Duchess of Sussex.
I’ll admit, I don’t follow her closely. I watched the Meghan & Harry documentary, and sure, there were some carefully manufactured moments, but nothing particularly sinister. Most public figures operate that way. Anyone who knows their words will be dissected and repackaged into clickbait headlines naturally calibrates their every soundbite. And even those of us who aren’t famous do it — we have our work personas, family personas, best-friend personas, dating personas, constantly shape-shifting. But who’s 100% authentic 24/7? And if there’s a camera? Please. I act weird when the Walmart security camera flashes that it’s recording, and I’m just buying a pack of Dial soap. As Meghan herself puts it in her new show With Love, Meghan:
“Multifaceted folks, that’s what we are.”
When I first heard about the series, I had zero expectations. Not high, not low. Just curiosity. Not because I was dying to know what Meghan was up to, but because of the sheer level of online vitriol that seemed to shadow her every move.
The flood of commentary on her show’s trailer was impossible to ignore — people picking apart her matching aprons, her dog, the way she styles her hair. And I’ll admit, it got to me. You know when you have no opinion about something, but you see such extreme takes that you start wondering, Am I missing something?
So, I typed into Google:
“Why do people hate Meghan Markle?”
I’m ashamed of how far I fell down the rabbit hole. YouTube creators splicing together out-of-context clips, setting them to eerie music, flashing words like narcissist as if diagnosing her through jump cuts. And as much as I wanted to believe I was above influence, the sheer repetition started to creep in.
So when I finally sat down to watch With Love, Meghan, I came in with skepticism I didn’t even realize I’d absorbed.
The show itself? Harmless.
Each episode follows the same format: Meghan invites a friend or acquaintance to cook, set a table, and create something beautiful together. The first episode? She and a longtime friend make candles from leftover beeswax and cook a one-pot tomato pasta. Later, she and Mindy Kaling prepare a kids’ tea party, cutting sandwiches into playful shapes and arranging delicate table settings. She and chef Roy Choi reminisce about their Los Angeles upbringings over Korean-style fried chicken and champagne. She bakes focaccia with Delfina Blaquier, reflecting on her time living in Argentina. She handwrites menus for a brunch with chef Alice Waters, dehydrates citrus slices for cocktails, and even makes homemade dog biscuits from leftover bacon.
The final episode? A brunch gathering to celebrate the launch of her new business, where Prince Harry makes a brief cameo.
That was it.
No drama. No grand declarations. No deep revelations about race, the monarchy, or her personal struggles. Just soft, aesthetically pleasing moments of connection — people coming together over food, conversation, and pretty things.
And yet, somehow, this was what had people foaming at the mouth?
Because that’s the thing: how we see society is often a reflection of where we are. Humanity has taken a backseat to judgment, greed, and dominance — three forces constantly wrestling for control of the wheel.
It’s why the simple image of a poised, polished woman — perfectly pressed clothes, not a split end in sight, and married an actual prince — can feel almost offensive. In a world that feels frayed and unraveling, her composure becomes a mirror we don’t want to look into. Her flawlessness makes us hyper-aware of our own messiness, our own unmet expectations, our own chaos.
So we troll. We roll our eyes. And if we have enough time, we stitch together 5-minute reactions to her taking the last name Sussex — because, apparently, wanting your family to share a name is now a crime. (Never mind that royals have done this for generations — Prince William and Prince Harry went by ‘Wales’ as kids)
I finished the last episode of With Love, Meghan, closed my laptop, and stared at my own kitchen. Not a single curated tablescape in sight. A few mismatched coffee mugs in the sink, and two overly ripe avocados I forgot about.
So I burned a candle I got on sale at HomeGoods, played some Dinah Washington, and, as CNN droned on about the latest horror show that is the United States, I decided — I’ll make pesto today.
