Now that Meghan Markle is no longer bound by royal obligations, she has taken it upon herself to grace the world with updates from her dazzlingly extraordinary life. And by extraordinary, I mean the kind of content that could easily be mistaken for something your aunt might post on Facebook—mundane yet inexplicably self-important.
Her latest contribution to social media? A gripping Instagram story featuring a flock of birds flying in a V formation. To elevate this already groundbreaking footage, she paired it with a caption exuding profound wisdom: "Flying into the week with my family," punctuated by a heart emoji. But the true pièce de résistance wasn’t the video itself—no, that honor belonged to the meticulous crediting of her husband. "Thanks to my H for capturing this," she wrote, ensuring that we all acknowledge Harry's pivotal role as her personal videographer.
Because why refer to him as Harry when H makes him sound like a trendy accessory? Forget the Duke of Sussex—he’s now been reduced to an "Instagram Husband," dutifully recording the same kind of bird migration footage your grandmother might casually film on her way to the grocery store. And let’s be honest—did he even take the video? Or is this just another carefully curated attempt to convince the world of their unwavering togetherness? The odds of Harry actually standing there, phone in hand, intentionally documenting this avian moment are about as high as him solving a Rubik’s Cube in under a minute.
Then, of course, there’s the sheer secondhand embarrassment radiating from the whole thing. The post exudes the same energy as a suburban mom uploading a blurry sunrise photo with a caption like "Grateful. Good vibes only." This, from a woman who once vowed to modernize the monarchy. And yet, here she is, serving up the kind of low-effort filler content that wouldn’t even make it into a group chat.
Let’s also take a moment to appreciate just how unironically Meghan is treating this clip as some kind of artistic achievement. Nothing quite says visionary storytelling like pointing your phone at the sky for ten seconds. Perhaps the next logical step is awarding Harry a Pulitzer for his breathtaking cinematography. And at the rate things are going, she’s just a few posts away from sharing a blurry hospital bracelet with the cryptic caption, "So something happened, but I don’t want to talk about it."
Because, of course, Meghan’s entire public persona thrives on an intricate balance of oversharing and mysterious vagueness—revealing just enough to keep people guessing, while withholding just enough to ensure the conversation never stops. And let’s not forget her signature tendency to overcompensate. Whether it’s an interview, an Instagram post, or pretending she pioneered mindfulness, there’s always an underlying desperation in her efforts. Every post, every statement, every calculated moment seems to scream: "Look at me. Love me. Talk about me."
She likely thinks she’s effortlessly cool, that calling Harry H is charmingly casual and modern. In reality, it’s the verbal equivalent of a Live, Laugh, Love sign collecting dust in a HomeGoods clearance bin. So here’s a little unsolicited advice: Meghan, please—just stop.
