Meghan Markle, the self-proclaimed Duchess of Sussex, was reportedly left seething when a customs officer in Seattle dared to treat her like an ordinary traveler.
According to a blind item, when she presented her passport, which bore her legal name, the officer addressed her as “Ms. Markle.” That simple act of following protocol was apparently too much for Meghan to bear. Expecting immediate deference, perhaps even an apology and a dramatic display of respect, she attempted to correct him. But rather than bowing to her supposed royal status, the officer, unimpressed by any airs of grandeur, coolly responded, “Does that mean your passport is incorrect?” In that moment, silence fell—a rare occurrence for someone who thrives on being heard.
It must haunt Meghan to know that, no matter how much she insists on being called the Duchess of Sussex, her official documents remain stubbornly unchanged. The passport—the one thing she cannot alter to fit her personal narrative—still reads Rachel Meghan Markle. Imagine the indignity of it all, her carefully crafted royal persona unraveling before her eyes because a customs officer refused to indulge her fantasy.
Adding to the irony, Meghan once told Oprah a dramatic tale of being “trapped” in the royal family, claiming that her passport had been confiscated. A tragic story—until one recalls how she somehow managed to travel freely, including a luxurious trip to New York for a baby shower. It seems her supposedly stolen passport had a magical ability to reappear whenever a high-end getaway was in order. The question remains: how did she manage official royal tours as an American citizen? Without a British passport or diplomatic credentials, she would have had to travel like any other private U.S. citizen. But in her mind, she has never been just anyone—she is the Duchess of Sussex, a title she clings to as if it grants her immunity from reality.
Perhaps she believed her passport should have been marked with a golden emblem, a special note instructing officials to bow in her presence. But the stark reality is that it contained nothing of the sort—only her plain, non-royal, completely ordinary name. If there’s a hero in this tale, it’s the customs officer. U.S. border agents are known for their no-nonsense approach, and they certainly don’t cater to self-important social climbers. He likely encounters entitled travelers on a daily basis, so the demands of a former actress seeking to assert her rank would have been just another routine encounter.
This is the same woman who claims to have been "fed to the wolves" and rails against the archaic traditions of the monarchy—yet still insists on being addressed by a royal title. The hypocrisy is almost as grand as her ego. And the truth is, even if King Charles were to formally strip her of the title, Meghan would still introduce herself as the Duchess of Sussex. It’s her last remaining connection to the royal family, the final thread keeping her name in the headlines. She clings to it with the same desperation with which she holds on to Harry’s rapidly diminishing public goodwill.
At this point, it’s all an elaborate game of make-believe, a dress-up fantasy with no real significance, especially in America. But if holding onto this illusion helps her sleep at night, who are we to shatter the dream? Meanwhile, the customs officer likely moved on with his day, blissfully unaware that he had just delivered a crushing blow to Meghan Markle’s fragile sense of self—all with two simple words: “Ms. Markle.” Someone ought to give that man a medal.
