In the realms of royalty and celebrity, few figures have captivated the public imagination as deeply as Princess Diana and Meghan Markle. Now, a royal expert has weighed in on Markle’s mindset.
Since the beginning of her relationship with Prince Harry, Meghan Markle has been heavily scrutinized by the public. Some have compared her to Princess Diana and others have said she could never measure up to her late-mother-in-law.
Princess Diana, a beacon of compassion and a disruptor of the traditional royal protocol, left a legacy of humanitarian work and personal vulnerability that reshaped the British monarchy.
Markle, an American actress turned Duchess of Sussex, has carved her own path, challenging norms and facing intense scrutiny while navigating her role within the same institution.
Recently, Markle, at the age of 42, embarked on a new venture, launching her lifestyle brand, American Riviera Orchard. This move, rich in ambition and personal expression, has reignited conversations about her connection to Diana’s legacy, stirring insights from royal experts and evoking varied reactions from the public.
American Riviera Orchard represents Markle’s latest step in crafting a life that merges public influence with private entrepreneurial ambition.
The brand, which will offer an array of homewares products, signifies her commitment to creating a legacy that transcends her royal title.
Notably, the brand’s launch coincided with The Diana Award ceremony, a decision that royal expert Tom Quinn suggests is no mere coincidence.
According to Quinn, Markle sees herself as “Diana’s heir,” a woman who, like her late mother-in-law, faces the media’s glare but strives to leverage her platform for personal and broader societal gain.
However, this alignment with Diana’s legacy has sparked debate, with some viewing it as a respectful nod to the past, while others criticize it as capitalizing on royal connections.
The parallels drawn between Markle and Princess Diana are not new. Prince Harry himself has often highlighted the similarities between the two most influential women in his life.
In their Netflix documentary series, “Harry & Meghan,” Harry emphasized Markle’s compassion, empathy, and warmth, traits he deeply associates with his mother.
This comparison extends beyond personality traits, touching on their shared experiences with media scrutiny and their desire to use their public platforms for advocacy and change.
In an excerpt from the documentary, Prince Harry recalled a night when he and Meghan were staying in a room at Buckingham Palace following a royal engagement.
Although most royal family members were there, including his grandmother, Queen Elizabeth II, the person the media chose to portray on the front page was Markle.
Many royal fans accused Markle of trying to steal the spotlight from other royals, but Prince Harry clarified that the media chose who they put on the front page, not the royals.
Yet, this connection to Diana’s legacy is a double-edged sword, offering both a source of inspiration and a potential point of contention within and outside the royal family.
Critics argue that Markle’s business endeavors, particularly the timing of her brand’s launch, reflect a calculated move to align her image with Diana’s enduring influence.
This perspective suggests a complex navigation of personal ambition and public perception, where every decision is scrutinized for its authenticity and respect for royal traditions.
Yet, supporters see Markle’s actions as a continuation of Diana’s legacy, a way of honoring her memory by embodying the same spirit of independence and social consciousness.
The launch of American Riviera Orchard, therefore, is more than just the introduction of a new brand. It’s a statement of identity and purpose from Markle, a declaration of how she wishes to be seen and remembered.
By aligning her entrepreneurial ventures with Diana’s legacy, Markle is carving a space where her work can be both personally fulfilling and beneficial to others.
However, the path she navigates is fraught with comparisons and expectations, where her every move is seen through the lens of her late mother-in-law’s shadow.
As Markle continues to build her brand and define her public persona, the conversation around her connection to Princess Diana’s legacy is unlikely to wane.
The move to start a business comes at the same time as Markle carving out her identity on hers and her husband’s new website. We previously reported that the pair launched a new website in which Markle altered her publicly-used name.
As Prince Harry and Markle launched the new website, they transitioned from the Sussex Royal URL handle to simply Sussex. Despite stepping back from official royal duties, they continue to use their titles. The website includes a section designed to offer the public more insight into their lives and work.
Notably, Meghan’s page introduces her using only her first name, omitting her family name. This decision reflects a common practice among British Royals, who are frequently referred to by their first names and titles.
Meghan’s narrative on the site includes her upbringing, painting a picture of her journey from a young South California girl to the influential figure she is today. The page also featured her advocacies for women, mental health, gender equality, and family care.
Meghan’s impact and recognition are also highlighted through her inclusion in various world rankings, marking her as a notable figure on the global stage.
Now residing in California as a mother of two, Meghan and Harry have embarked on a new chapter away from their roles as senior members of the British Royal Family.
Their children, Prince Archie and Princess Lilibet, whose names are emblematic of their continued connection to Harry’s heritage, are a significant part of their lives in America.
Following their move, the couple launched the Archewell Foundation and introduced the podcast “Archetypes,” initiatives that underline their ongoing commitment to public service and discourse.
Meghan’s details are available on the Royal Family’s official website, though it offers limited information about her advocacies and activities.
It mentions that she and her husband have stepped back as senior members, stating, “The Duchess will continue to support various charitable causes and organizations that align with her longstanding interests, including the arts, education access, women’s support, and animal welfare.”
Recently, in light of King Charles’ recent cancer diagnosis, Prince Harry returned to London to be by his father’s side. However, Meghan Markle decided to stay in America during this period.
The reasons behind Meghan’s choice to remain in America, while not confirmed were revealed by the King’s former butler, Grant Harrold.
“Meghan made the decision that it was best to stay home with the children, and maybe she feels that this is something Harry has got to do alone,” he said. “It’s his father. She’s aware of the close relationship and probably encouraged him to come over.
My 16-Year-Old Son Went to Stay with His Grandmother for the Summer – One Day, I Got a Call from Her
When my 16-year-old son offered to spend the summer taking care of his disabled grandmother, I thought he’d finally turned a corner. But one night, a terrifying call from my mother shattered that hope.
“Please, come save me from him!” my mother’s voice whispered through the phone, barely a breath.
A scared elderly woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
Her words were sharp with fear, a tone I’d never heard from her. My stomach knotted. Before I could respond, the line went dead.
I stared at my phone, disbelief mixing with shock. My strong, fiercely independent mother was scared. And I knew exactly who “him” was.
An angry woman | Source: Pexels
My son had always been a handful, but lately, he’d crossed new lines. At sixteen, he was testing every boundary he could find. Rebellious, headstrong, a walking storm of attitude and defiance.
I remembered him coming home from school, slinging his backpack down with a certain grin that I didn’t recognize. “I was thinking about going to Grandma’s this summer,” he’d said. “I mean, you’re always saying she could use more company. I could keep an eye on her.”
A smiling teenager | Source: Pexels
My first reaction was surprise and a little pride. Maybe he was turning over a new leaf, becoming responsible. But looking back now, as I sped down the darkening highway, his words nagged at me in a way they hadn’t before.
I’d blinked, surprised. “You… want to go stay with Grandma? You usually can’t wait to get out of there.”
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
“I’ll help take care of her,” he’d said. “You could even let the caregiver go, Mom. Save some money, you know?”
The more I drove, the more pieces of our recent conversations slipped into place in my mind, forming a picture I didn’t like.
“People change,” he’d shrugged with a strange smile. Then he looked up at me with a half-smile. “I mean, I’m almost a man now, right?”
A smiling teenage boy with a phone | Source: Pexels
I’d brushed it off then, thinking maybe he was finally growing up. But now, that smile felt… off. Not warm or genuine, but like he was playing a part.
As I drove, I remembered other details, things I’d dismissed at the time. A week into his stay, I’d called, wanting to check on my mother directly. He’d answered, cheerful but too fast, like he was steering the call. “Hey, Mom! Grandma’s asleep. She said she’s too tired to talk tonight, but I’ll tell her you called.”
A concerned woman on her phone | Source: Freepik
Why didn’t I push harder?
My mind raced back to how it all began. It had been just the two of us since his father left when he was two. I’d tried to give him what he needed to stay grounded. But since he hit his teenage years, the small cracks had started widening.
An angry teenage boy | Source: Freepik
The only person who seemed to get through to him now and then was my mother. She had a way of disarming him, though even she admitted he was “testing her patience.”
I dialed my mother’s number again, willing her to pick up. My thumb tapped the screen anxiously, but still, nothing.
The sky darkened as the houses became sparse, her rural neighborhood just up ahead. With every mile, my mind replayed his too-smooth excuses, his charming act.
A woman on her phone in her car | Source: Freepik
As I pulled up to my mother’s house, a chill ran through me. Her lawn, once so tidy, was now overgrown, weeds tangling around the porch steps. The shutters had peeling paint, and the lights were off, as though no one had been home in weeks.
I stepped out of the car, feeling disbelief twisting into a sick anger. Beer bottles and crushed soda cans littered the porch. I could even smell cigarette smoke drifting out through the open window.
A littered porch | Source: Midjourney
My hands shook as I reached for the door, pushing it open.
And there, right in front of me, was chaos.
Strangers filled the living room laughing, drinking, shouting over the music. Half of them looked old enough to be college kids, others barely looked out of high school. My heart twisted, a mixture of fury and heartache flooding through me.
A furious woman | Source: Pexels
“Where is he?” I whispered, scanning the crowd, disbelief giving way to a focused rage. I shouldered through people, calling his name. “Excuse me! Move!”
A girl sprawled on the couch glanced up at me, blinking lazily. “Hey, lady, chill out. We’re just having fun,” she slurred, waving a bottle in my direction.
“Where’s my mother?” I snapped, barely able to hold back the edge in my voice.
A shouting woman | Source: Pexels
The girl just shrugged, unconcerned. “Dunno. Haven’t seen any old lady here.”
Ignoring her, I continued through the packed room, shouting my son’s name over the blaring music. I looked from face to face, my heart pounding faster with every step. Every second that passed made the house feel more like a stranger’s, more like a place my mother would never allow, let alone live in.
Teenagers partying | Source: Pexels
“Mom!” I called, my voice desperate as I reached the end of the hall, near her bedroom door. It was closed, the handle faintly scratched, as though it’d been opened and closed a hundred times in the last hour alone.
I knocked hard, heart racing. “Mom? Are you in there? It’s me!”
A weak, trembling voice replied, barely audible over the noise. “I’m here. Please—just get me out.”
A woman knocking frantically into the closed door | Source: Midjourney
I felt a wave of relief and horror as I fumbled with the handle and threw the door open. There she was, sitting on the bed, her face pale and drawn, eyes rimmed with exhaustion. Her hair was mussed, and I could see dark circles under her eyes.
“Oh, Mom…” I crossed the room in a heartbeat, falling to my knees beside her and wrapping my arms around her.
An elderly woman covering her ears | Source: Freepik
Her hand, frail but steady, clutched mine. “He started with just a few friends,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “But when I told him to stop, he got angry. He… he said I was just getting in the way.” Her voice wavered. “He started locking me in here. Said I was… ruining his fun.”
A sickening wave of anger surged through me. I’d been blind, foolish enough to believe my son’s promise to “help out.” I took a shaky breath, stroking her hand. “I’m going to fix this, Mom. I swear.”
An elderly woman in her bedroom | Source: Freepik
She nodded, gripping my hand, her own fingers cold and trembling. “You have to.”
I walked back to the living room, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt. And there was my son, leaning against the wall, laughing with a group of older kids.
When he looked up and saw me, his face went pale.
“Mom? What… what are you doing here?”
A shocked teenage boy | Source: Freepik
“What am I doing here?” I echoed, my voice steady with a calm I didn’t feel. “What are you doing here? Look around! Look at what you’ve done to your grandmother’s home!”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but I saw his mask slipping. “It’s just a party. You don’t have to freak out.”
“Get everyone out of here. Now.” My voice was steel, and this time, it cut through the noise. The whole room seemed to freeze. “I’m calling the police if this house isn’t empty in the next two minutes.”
A furious woman | Source: Freepik
One by one, the partiers shuffled out, murmuring and stumbling toward the door. The house cleared out, leaving only broken furniture, empty bottles, and my son, who now stood alone in the wreckage he’d made.
When the last guest was gone, I turned to him. “I trusted you. Your grandmother trusted you. And this is how you repay her? This is what you thought ‘helping’ looked like?”
A woman confronting her son | Source: Midjourney
He shrugged, a defensive sneer twisting his face. “She didn’t need the space. You’re always on my case, Mom. I just wanted some freedom!”
“Freedom?” My voice shook with disbelief. “You’re going to learn what responsibility is.” I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of each word. “You’re going to a summer camp with strict rules, and I’m selling your electronics, everything valuable, to pay for the damage. You don’t get a single ‘freedom’ until you earn it.”
An angry woman in her living room | Source: Midjourney
“What?” His bravado faltered, fear flickering in his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am,” I said, voice colder than I’d ever heard it. “And if you don’t change, you’re out of the house when you turn eighteen. I’m done with excuses.”
The next day, I sent him off to camp. His protests, his anger all faded as the summer passed, and for the first time, he was forced to face the consequences.
A teenage boy in a camp | Source: Pexels
As I repaired my mother’s house that summer, I felt the pieces of our family begin to mend. Bit by bit, room by room, I cleared the broken glass, patched up the walls, and held on to hope that my son would come home a different person.
After that summer, I saw my son start to change. He grew quieter, steadier, spending evenings studying instead of disappearing with friends.
A boy doing his homework | Source: Pexels
Small acts like helping around the house, apologizing without being prompted became routine. Each day, he seemed more aware, more respectful, like he was finally becoming the man I’d hoped for.
Two years later, I watched him walk up my mother’s steps again, head bowed. He was a successful gentleman now, about to graduate school with honors and enroll in a nice college. In his hand was a bouquet, his gaze sincere and soft in a way I’d never seen.
A young man with flowers | Source: Freepik
“I’m sorry, Grandma,” he said, his voice thick with regret. I held my breath, watching as the boy I’d fought to raise offered her a piece of his heart.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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