Why the Vicious Hate Against Meghan Markle?

I don't really get involved in Royal shit.  Though many Americans really care, I really don't.  Not since Princess Diana died anyway.   But of course, you can't be on this planet, and especially online on this planet, without knowing a lot about the Royals.  Believe me, I've tried.

I watched as Meghan hate grew into something wild and frenzied and snarling like a rabid dog.

Yesterday, I noticed some of these headcases trying to pass off an edited video falsely portraying Meghan and Harry being loudly booed as they arrived at some church (forgive me, I am no anglophile) in England during the Platinum Jubilee.  This Jubilee celebrates the 70th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth's reign.  

Anyway, they were not  loudly booed and this video was edited and faked, but being pushed with glee on Twitter.

I have given these Kate Middleton (whom I have nothing against, and nothing for) stans/Meghan Markle haters some thought.  

And I have a theory.

Now, of course racism is playing its foul role.  But my theory does not exclude it at all.  I think that racism heightens the details in my theory, it's not contradictory at all. 

I think these white women spent years fantasizing about being Kate.  Escaping from their own lives through a rich interior one.  And I am a big fan of the inner life, I really am.  But there's no doubt that some minds cannot handle it, and go off the rails.

Remember, before Harry met Meghan, he formed some sort of royal celebrity threesome with Kate and his brother Will.   And there was always this impression that there was some light flirting between Kate and Harry. 

I think they got lost in their fantasies of being Kate married to the future king while having a thrilling secret and mutual (in their minds I don’t think Harry ever felt this but Kate may have) attraction to Hot Harry.

And in their fantasies maybe the day came when they, as Kate, gave into the building sexual tension and fucked Hot Harry's brains out.

And then got lost in the whole drama of "oh your brother can never know."

A beautiful, desirable woman (well, are you undesirable in YOUR fantasies?), married to a very rich, powerful man who loves her madly, and his hot younger brother, who sadly, just can't seem to find love.  But he admires you so.  And you feel the heat coming off of him, and you can't help generating some of that heat yourself, and oh, it's all so very forbidden!  But exciting.

And so this fantasy of this woman, you, married into a powerful family, loving both rich, handsome brothers, and having them both desire you, plays out.  Over years it plays out.  Some of the details of your first kiss with the hot brother, when neither of you can hold back any longer, change.  Maybe it happens in the bathroom, next time, it happens in the servant's quarters (there are servants, of course, lots and lots of servants).  Whatever.

So, guess what?  This was basically the storyline of my entire teenaged fantasy life about Kirk and Spock.

But whenever Spock and I gave into temptation the sex was so fucking hot my head could never get back into my primary relationship with Kirk.  But did I really want to give up the power and ego of being the one that the legendary Captain Kirk can't live without?  The one woman he wanted even more than he wanted the Enterprise?  I don't think so!

So, you know, I know how this all goes.  

Then Meghan comes along and ruins everything just like that fucking T'Pring!

And she's black.  So now they can't even pretend to be her, because these white women are not going to be black in their fantasies, right?

They are furious.  She has usurped Kate/Them.  Their wonderful fantasy life has been destroyed.   They don't have that second life any longer.  They are enraged.  They hate.

These women over-identified with Kate their whole lives.  In their dreams, they were Kate.  Kate was their avatar of white female beauty and of a life so privileged they, like most of us, could only dream of it. 

You know, this country (and I am going to assume the UK as well) could really benefit from a much stronger mental health policy.  There's nothing wrong with an inner life, with fantasy, and I think that people who don't have those things, can be very unhealthy.  But then there is the opposite, when someone gets so lost they can hardly separate fantasy from reality.   You see it so much.  It always revolves around some very overrated white dude.  William, even Harry, certainly Johnny.  And there is always, always, a woman to make a demon of. 

Maybe people used to live lives of quiet desperation, but the internet made them loudly desperate.  And they went off the rails.  And a lot of them need some serious therapy. 

You know, I was only a teenager, and I grew up.  Some never do.  Though I will admit to still enjoying a Spock fantasy here and there.  As an adult, I realized of course it would be Spock.  Who cares about being the Captain's girl?  The mind-blowing sex is the thing, and that was always Spock, even in my teenage dreams.  But I have real shit to deal with these days, and so my inner life never gets going too much.  Maybe because I have other creative outlets, and all of my work, especially my real job, involve creative output. 

Maybe these ladies need a journal.  Bring journaling back.  It could be a start anyway.