The Wedding of Meghan the Feminist

I want to add to the appreciation I have already expressed here about the very recent Royal Wedding in London (, but this time I’ll be focusing especially upon Meghan, and the remarkable feminist statement she has been somehow led – by the Divine, I would say – to make, through the way her wedding with Prince Harry actually went.

I have myself been, since my youth, a woman priding herself of her own feminist convictions and decisions, such as refusing to ever officially marry any of the companions who have shared my life. But we were all ordinary ‘commoners’, as the British would say, so that wasn’t so difficult or bold to do – especially as most of my life has been in Auroville, where marriage as a social or religious thing is not an obligation at all – rather the contrary, as to the Mother’s guidance on this topic for the spiritual township she had founded (

But in the position of Meghan, there was no choice but marrying Prince Harry if they wanted to live together. And to get married into the strictest Royal Family in Europe was a most difficult affair by itself. How do you possibly show any feminist choices in such an already risky context?

And not only that, but a last minute disaster happened a few days only before the ceremony, potentially putting the entire thing in a pretty bad light for all to see:

Meghan’s father, at first unwilling to come because of previous very bad experiences with the media, had finally, for the sake of his daughter, reconciled himself with having to face once again the photographers and other paparazzi; so everything seemed to be all right and she was counting on him for doing the usual duty required from the father of the bride: leading the said bride (in that case, herself) all the way to the altar to meet the groom waiting there.

But all of a sudden the news came from her father that he couldn’t come, it was physically impossible for him to come: his heart was giving him trouble, he had to be admitted at a hospital in the US for urgent surgery in the next few days and so would have to miss entirely the event in London.

Frankly, I wouldn’t have liked to be in Meghan’s shoes when these news arrived.

What an excruciatingly embarrassing situation did this new catastrophe mean for her!.. The whole ceremony had been already difficult enough to arrange, in a precarious balance between the usual British Royal Etiquette (or is it downright Formalism?…) and  the freer ways both she and Prince Harry were more used to as individuals!…

The perspective of having now to walk all the way along the aisle conspicuously alone,  without the required escort, must have been at first dreadful, even for a strong woman like Meghan. But her inner strength somehow managed to do the needed somersault, and suddenly the right idea was there, and Meghan was miraculously landing upright on her two feet with this illuminating new perspective on the situation:

Alone to walk the aisle?… So what?!… But of course!… Alone is actually how any woman SHOULD go to the altar and meet there her groom! Isn’t that obvious?!

It is the very situation she found herself suddenly in, when her father finally couldn’t come, that somehow forced her to go, like sudden challenges can sometimes make you go, still one level higher than usual in her consciousness as a woman. And from that new height she was able to see what I myself had never noticed before either:

The whole social ritual, woven right into the religious ceremony as well, is still actually showing the bride as the mere possession of her father (remember, in many cases one still has even to ask the father before if he will give you the hand of his daughter…!) ; and in the same way the father must be the one who leads the daughter to that other male, the husband-to-be, just as if she herself had no say in the matter, and was just an object being passed on from one male owner to the other, without any real existence or rights of her own.

Well, all that has been squarely done with by Meghan, bless her!… She realized she didn’t need anyone to ‘give her away’, as they say, to the one she loved and who loved her too.


This bold new perspective freeing her from the last shackles that she may have seen then had still been around her ankles before, Meghan was now able to visualize who could, if not escort her, at least accompany her on her long way to the altar:

The kids carrying her very long train were a must, of course, for coming up the steps to the gate of the Chapel; they would be welcomed there by one of the Members of the Clergy who would later conduct the Ceremony, so he probably could lead them all further in as well; then, why not have the Prince Charles of Wales, her future father-in-law, accompany her for some distance after that , from the next few steps on towards the altar?… But the last meters to meet her beloved waiting there, she would walk alone indeed, as the independent and adult woman she was!!!

This is how I imagine the internal dialogue of Meghan to have been, and I may of course be totally wrong; but the visible, indisputable end result of whatever inner struggle she may have gone through, was seen by all present there, when starting from down the steps outside the Chapel, she made her eagerly awaited entrance into the Chapel itself:

It was a not only beautiful, but radiant, perfectly at ease and self-confident bride who appeared at the gate, gazed briefly and smilingly at the crowd inside. To a soaring soprano solo chosen by her (a cantata by Händel for Queen Anne in 1714). under the bright beams of sunlight she began following quietly but proudly for a while the welcoming Minister; at the few steps midway, as he turned away for his next duties, then Prince Charles waiting there came to her side in a totally natural move, and they went on walking together and smiling at each other as if anytime they would start chatting together like good friends; until they came near where the groom was standing, waiting… then Prince Charles left her discretely to go and sit at his own place just to the right.

And then Meghan the Bride went on all alone to meet her Groom, Prince Harry, a few meters further. Together at last, near the Altar and the Priest, they exchanged sweet looks and smiles, and Prince Harry said a few sweet compliments to his beautiful bride, before and again after lifting her veil and literally dis-covering her radiant face under the delicate sparkling diamond tiara lent to her by the Queen herself.

And the actual Ceremony could then begin, but the whole Wedding event had already been started in a masterful way, changing what had once been a potentially shocking and humiliating situation, into an utterly strong and yet perfectly authentic statement of the deepest and purest feminism I know of:

 Meghan walks down the aisle in St George's Chapel.


And do you know what? She also noticed that in the vows both the groom and the bride have to pronounce to each other, only the bride has an additional thing to vow: to obey the husband!… Well, Meghan never pronounced that specific vow!!!… That too has been gleefully done with! By Harry too, of course, but has he been the one to notice first that such an archaic vow was still in there?… It could well be that Meghan again did…

Whatever be the case, my sincerest congratulations go to her, from a woman to another brave woman:

Well done, dear Meghan, well done!…






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