Prince Harry has every reason to be deeply affected by his mother’s tragic passing. Losing a parent is painful at any age, but to lose a mother at 12, in such a public way, leaves lasting scars. No one questions his trauma. What raises concerns, however, is his constant need to relive it for the public eye, turning grief into entertainment.
If he truly wanted to heal, would he need to do so on a global platform? With his resources, he could access the best help privately—without making his pain a spectacle. The contrast between Harry and Prince William is striking. Both suffered the same loss, yet William honors Diana’s legacy through quiet dignity, continuing her charitable work and speaking of her with respect. Harry, however, seems unable to resist exposing his emotions for public consumption, making his grief feel like a commodity. William understands that some things should remain private—that duty must come before self-indulgence.
Consider also Princess Catherine, who faces personal challenges with grace. Despite her health struggles, she upholds her royal duties while maintaining dignity and privacy. She does not exploit her hardships for attention; she simply carries on. The difference between her and the Sussexes is glaring. Alex Dyke defended Harry by saying "people are different," but there’s a difference between processing trauma and profiting from it. Seeking help is one thing—seeking the spotlight is another.
One must wonder how Princess Diana would feel about this. While she had a complicated relationship with fame, she understood discretion. Would she have wanted her memory turned into content for a streaming service? Would she have approved of one son using their shared loss to drive a deeper wedge between himself and his brother? And what about the timing? The 30th anniversary of Diana’s passing should be a moment of reflection, not a marketing opportunity. Planning a documentary years in advance is not healing—it’s business.
When Harry and Meghan left the UK, they claimed it was for privacy. Yet they now invite cameras into their most intimate moments, selling their struggles to the highest bidder. They did not want privacy—they wanted control over their narrative and the profits that come with it.
King Charles must find this deeply painful. He supported Harry through every challenge, yet now watches as his son repeatedly undermines the family for commercial gain. Through it all, Charles remains dignified, prioritizing duty even in the face of personal struggles—something Harry seems to have forgotten.
And then there’s Meghan. Since entering Harry’s life, his priorities and relationships have drastically changed. The prince once known for his military service and charitable work now seems consumed by grievances. Notably, this Diana documentary is a solo endeavor. Is Meghan realizing her royal connections are losing public interest, or is this a calculated division of their brand? Either way, it’s a cynical move.
Harry has real potential. His work with Invictus was groundbreaking, and his natural empathy could be used for positive change. Instead, he continues to recycle old wounds, using his mother’s memory as leverage.
Steven Dixon was right—Harry should stop talking. Constantly revisiting the same pain in public is unhealthy for him and for those around him. William cannot respond without seeming cold. The King cannot intervene without fueling further drama. The monarchy cannot defend itself without appearing cruel. Yet Harry continues this endless cycle, ensuring there is no resolution—only more content.
Some healing can only happen in silence. Diana, despite her fame, understood that. Perhaps it’s time her youngest son learned it too.
