If every fallout is always someone else’s fault, maybe you’re the common denominator?
Some people keep framing these couples as innocent victims of “other people’s behaviour.” Like every clash is caused by jealous families, toxic relatives, bad staff, cruel media, or haters.
But here’s the problem with that storyline.
At a certain point, the victim narrative stops sounding like “their side” and starts sounding like a strategy.
With Meghan and Harry, the track record is long. The blame rotates, the grievance stays, and accountability is always for everyone else.
With Brooklyn and Nicola, it’s newer, but the tone is already familiar: distance, drama, and a narrative that quietly positions them as wronged.
Different worlds. Same template.
It usually goes like this:
Step into privilege and protection.
Enjoy the benefits.
Reject the responsibility.
When criticism comes, rebrand it as cruelty.
When people push back, rewrite the past.
When relationships fracture, blame the “toxic” ones.
That’s not “telling your side.” That’s controlling the story.
A genuine person can explain their side while still admitting mistakes. This hurt me, and I also didn’t handle it perfectly.”
It includes self awareness. It includes limits. It includes responsibility.
But this version rarely does. It’s always packaged as:
“I was wronged.”
“They’re toxic.”
“They’re jealous.”
“They did this to me.”
And the contradictions always catch up.
Privacy is demanded, but intimate details become content.
Peace is claimed, but conflict is constantly fed.
Healing is mentioned, but blame is the only consistent theme.
Because “I feel hurt” doesn’t automatically mean “I’m innocent.”
And “I’m traumatised” doesn’t automatically mean “you’re guilty.”
And crying on camera doesn’t make a story factual.
You can be emotional and still be misleading.
You can be wounded and still be manipulative.
You can be popular and still be unreliable.
And here’s the real tell: the collateral damage is always the same.
Family members become villains.
Old friends become “toxic.”
Staff become “leakers” or “bullies.”
Anyone who disagrees becomes an enemy.
It’s the same playbook every time.
And it relies on one thing: the audience accepting a victim narrative without asking basic questions.
Like:
Why does every story have a hero and a villain?
Why is there never any personal responsibility?
Why is the blame always external?
Why is the “truth” always delivered when there’s something to sell?
If you want to be taken seriously, you cannot keep acting like a perpetual victim while also positioning yourself as the most powerful storyteller in the room.
That isn’t vulnerability.
That’s image management.
And it’s not “hate” to notice it.
It’s common sense.
People aren’t demanding perfection or sainthood.
They’re demanding consistency.
Because when your life is a never ending trail of fallouts, contradictions, and blame, you don’t get to keep pointing outward forever and still expect everyone to call it “your truth.”
Sometimes it’s not the world that’s cruel.
