Until now, the possibility of Kate’s story going the same way seemed remote. She has always presented as a people pleaser of Navy SEAL levels: She is thin enough, white enough, connected enough, with the right hair, manners, pedigree, and education. Yet none of this helped her ascend and solidify status within the monarchy as much as her extremely high levels of tolerance and discipline did. She never stumbled out of a club, or cursed out a paparazzo. With billions of us watching, she chose the right dress for the wedding, hit her marks, waved from the carriage, smiled and smiled.
Kate is the good daughter, good wife, good daughter-in-law, good mom. In reality, she is someone who stood outside a hospital in heels for the worldwide press while leaking afterbirth. But it’s easy to slide her avatar into a thousand different realities. It’s easy to imagine Kate, had she not become a royal, bugging her siblings to get back to her about their parents’ anniversary dinner. Smiling through her teeth and saying “Sure!” when someone from her kids’ school grabs her, asks if she has anywhere to be after dropoff, could she help with something for a few hours? Turning the other cheek when her mother-in-law, for the fifty thousandth time, sneaks her children candy with red dye in it, though she’s been clear red dye is off limits.
In short, it is easy to imagine Kate living and dying a good girl. Someone who never said no, complained, or caused a scene. This is an approach to life prescribed explicitly within the royal family, but these are also qualities we still treat as praiseworthy in women (and, I should say, men, too—there are sons and brothers and husbands out there swallowing themselves to keep the peace). We still teach girls that Kate is the way, and that Kate herself is the proof. Look how far you can get being good! has always been the moral of Kate’s story—a fairy tale held in counterpoint to countless famous women branded as crazy, dumb, or sluts. You can get far, Kate taught us. Almost unbelievably far. That doesn’t mean you can win. It doesn’t give you any power.
In the past two weeks, the exemplary tale has turned cautionary. What did Kate get, for being good? What likely happened with that photo is the thing that feels most true to the dynamics: Someone took old pictures of Kate smiling and boldly made them into a new one, created a moment that did not happen, stole her voice and name for the caption. Then, when they got caught, they blamed her and, in all likelihood, wrote “her” apology “for her.” These tactics might seem like the work of a sinister cabal, but they’re not, at their core. They are the work of a family used to relying on the good daughter not to get mad.