The Susan Sequel

Has anyone heard that there is a royal wedding coming up? I mean, given what’s going on in the world, what could be more important than the pomp and circumstance of a wedding between a dashing prince and a gorgeous, American actress? Don’t get me wrong, I will watch it (though not at 7am) and I will gladly discuss the gown, the Queen and, my personal favorite, Princess Charlotte (she’s so adorable). However, despite my obsession with British history (I bet most of you don’t know that I spend hours reading historical books, just for fun), I really don’t care that much about the royal wedding (overkill, maybe). The amount of time and energy spent on this wedding is ludicrous; clearly, everyone knows that the only thing that truly matters is what tiara Meghan Markle wears tomorrow (who doesn’t want their “something borrowed” to be a diamond tiara from the Queen’s Crown Jewels). That being said, and with the wedding weekend arriving quicker than that Hawaiian lava, I wish them both much luck (in that family, they will most certainly need it).

I remember being fascinated by Princess Diana’s wedding, life and death; in fact, she actually died on my first anniversary (August 31, 1997). I remember coming home from our very first anniversary dinner (at Café Maxx) and flicking on the TV in our bedroom. I had just found out I was pregnant with Hannah and could barely keep my eyes open (I was exhausted for most of my first trimester). And, there it was, the accident that ultimately took Diana’s life. As I drifted off to sleep, I recall thinking that she would be okay and that this would be monopolizing my quality television watching for the next few days.  Little did I know what it would really become.  And, as the press glorifies Meghan’s transformation from American citizen to British royalty, it’s hard to forget the images of how miserable Diana seemed in her own “magical life.”

Not for nothing, life in the royal bubble isn’t all scones and clotted cream! Besides the obvious perks of access to the royal jewels and castles, being a princess seems awful, akin to living in a fishbowl (Hannah had a beta fish named Star that lived in a cube, debatable who will be happier). Don’t get me wrong, I love Kate Middleton; however, the public’s incessant obsession with all things royal is bizarre and beyond fanatical. Meghan is 36 and, by all accounts, an independent, worldly woman. I know she loves Harry (I mean, who wouldn’t), but, by all accounts, she has to give up quite a lot to marry into the British monarchy. Can you even begin to imagine the protocols, rules and etiquette she had to master just to meet the queen’s approval (she had to learn how to curtsey, a skill noticeably absent from the U.S. public school system). And, this begs the question… is it really worth it?

As young girls, many of us dreamed of meeting, and marrying, our own Prince Charming (or Princess Charming, whatever floats your boat).  However, as a jaded woman of 50, having been married for almost 22 years, I wonder if the royal wedding is doing our young women more harm than good.  For the most part, married life isn’t exactly a fairytale; it’s hard, it’s messy and it’s often frustrating. That being said, it’s also an amazing experience to love someone, be committed to them and proudly build a life together. It’s an interesting balance and a lot of work (we don’t all get to ride off into the sunset in our horse-drawn carriages). And, I hope that I have instilled in Hannah the need to experience life, love and freedom (in no particular order) before she settles down one day. Did you know that Meghan Markle will not take a new last name when she marries (the royals technically “took” the name of Mountbatten-Windsor but no one really uses it); her new title will be Her Royal Highness Princess Henry of Wales (royal trivia time: Harry’s given name is Henry). Seriously… Princess Henry? Call me crazy, but this seems antiquated, even for an outdated monarchy that remains only in name and tradition.

In case I sound particularly jaded, you should know that I am actually fascinated by the British monarchy and have spent countless hours reading countless books on the subject (since you haven’t asked, my favorite monarchs are Henry II and Henry VIII). As my kids will tell you, I am a big dork (they don’t remotely understand my interest in the subject); a moniker I wear with pride (it’s no tiara, but it will have to do). For the record, Meghan Markle should be pretty happy she’s marrying Harry and not his namesakes, Henry II (who kept his wife imprisoned for 16 years) or Henry VIII, who’s six marriages weren’t exactly the stuff that fairy-tales are made of (he wasn’t known for his chivalry, to say the least).

None the less, I wish Meghan and Harry nothing but happiness (as they already have all the best that money can buy). I am sure the next few days will be filled with all the details and drama that we have come to expect from a royal wedding and, soon enough, the pregnancy watch will begin (I am already anticipating Kathie Lee’s overt excitement). My main wish for tomorrow’s wedding is that Meghan doesn’t have a maid of honor with an amazing butt who steals her spotlight, ala Pippa Middleton (I told you I watch the royal weddings)! Tea and crumpets all around… Pip Pip Cheerio!!