PORCELAIN IVORY STEEL

Or maybe he does, but saying it out loud would destroy the entire argument. Because this isn’t about visiting the UK. It’s about image and money. What Harry really wants is to be treated like a globally protected figure again, someone who receives the deference and protocol of a working royal, regardless of the fact that he quit. He walked away. He chose to step down. No one pushed him. And now he wants the best of both worlds—freedom and prestige. But that’s not how it works.

Harry was never really in love with public service—he was in love with how it made him feel. Different. Special. He doesn’t see himself as another celebrity; he sees himself as equal to, if not above, his father and brother. And that, more than anything, is the root of all this.

Because deep down, Harry isn’t happy. He doesn’t look happy, sound happy, or act like someone who’s found peace. That’s because he doesn’t know what happiness is. He chases it through lawsuits, interviews, status, and whatever project Meghan is trying to sell next— but none of it works. He’s constantly shifting the narrative, redefining the source of his pain and the terms of his redemption. And in every version of the story, he’s always the victim.

But what makes it worse is that he’s dragging others into this circus. People who want no part in the chaos he brings. He talks about reconciliation, forgiveness, healing—but who, in their right mind, would forgive everything he’s said and done? And more to the point—why is it suddenly the family who needs to forgive him? them? Just a few years ago, it was the other way around. They were demanding apologies. They were the ones supposedly betrayed. Now that script has flipped, and we’re meant to just accept it? What happened to the accusations of racism—sorry, “unconscious bias”? What about the claims that Meghan was suicidal because of the family? That they were jealous of her popularity, her “grace,” her perfect image? Are we supposed to believe all of that just vanished? Forgotten? Or maybe it wasn’t true at all. Maybe it was exaggerated, misunderstood, or simply the product of a toxic narrative they created for their own gain. Somewhere out there, Thomas Markle must be watching all of this unfold with a mix of rage and bitter satisfaction.

Harry and Meghan allowed the royal family to be dragged through the mud. They stood by while people insulted Charles, Camilla, William and Catherine—based on their version of the story. And now they’re supposed to believe they’re just over it? That they’re ready to go back? That they’ve found it in themselves to forgive?

Is this all some kind of elaborate game? Because if it is, it’s not a very good one. And worst of all—it’s one they keep losing.

But this won’t end here. It never does. Because Harry needs this drama. It gives him purpose, identity and visibility. When the headlines die down, he finds ways to reignite them—another lawsuit, another documentary, another book. Because the truth is, they need money, and they need relevance. And let’s be real: crepe mixes and wellness brands won’t bring either.

That’s why I don’t blame Charles and William for staying quiet and keeping their distance. Can you imagine the fear that every word, every message, every glance could end up splashed across an interview, twisted in a book, or worse, dragged into a courtroom? That’s not a relationship. That’s a liability. Whatever was once there between them has been eroded beyond recognition. The betrayal wasn’t just public—it was personal. And now, it feels permanent.

The hard truth is that Harry is chasing a happiness that doesn’t exist. He’s searching for peace, purpose, status—whatever it is—but he’s looking in all the wrong places. And until he faces himself and the choices he’s made, this will just keep going. Round and round. Statement after statement. Interview after interview. Always the victim. Always misunderstood.