With Love, Meghan: Beautiful, Overproduced, and Weirdly Guarded (My Unfiltered Review)

I went into With Love, Meghan fully ready to watch a tv show and enjoy glossy tv kitchens and gentle hosting inspo. I left with one dominant thought: this is the most beautiful lifestyle show that refuses to let you in. It’s a lifestyle fever dream—soft lighting, neutral palettes, edible flowers galore—and yet the human at the center stays curiously out of reach.

I’ll be real about my lens. My friend circle spans countries and cultures; we’re split on the monarchy and on Meghan. Some adore her; others (me, hand raised) have absolutely no idea who she is, and after watching the show, I don’t think she knows who she really is either. What we all wanted here, regardless of royal opinions, was a show that felt human and gave us a sliver of who Meghan is. Instead, we got an immaculate brand reel and no substance. I wish one of Meghan’s real friends would tell her: You were once a normie, but now you’re not.

The Aesthetic Is a 10. The Show Is a 3. Here’s Why.

It plays like a performance, not a person

The camera never catches her off-guard. Quips are polished, talking points recur (“community,” “elevate,” “little details”), and emotion is sanded down to a showroom finish. We’re told “we’re not chasing perfection,” but the energy is pure perfectionism. No bloopers. No genuine mess. No “oops, that didn’t work—try this.” Instead, the vibe is, I practiced this before coming on camera, and not because I did before for friends, but because I’m going to do it for the show, and it needs to be perfect.

The “expertise” is surface-level

If you’re going to teach, teach. Baking without measurements, “elevated” crudités without being honest, gift-wrapping without technique—these are influencer vibes, not instruction. The food looks lovely, but does it taste good and where did you learn to do all this? Meghan gives us zero authentic stories with real depth.

Now the big exception? When a real chef drops in. The Korean fried chicken lesson finally let her be a student, and the show instantly became warmer, funnier, and actually useful. This is where Meghan belongs! I think she should bring in experts; they teach her, and in turn, we, the audience, are learning along too. I know this is going completely left field, but I loved the series “Cardi Tries…” and I think it would be fun to have a “Meghan Learns…” or “Meghan Tries…”

The production screams overcompensation

Everything is hyper-lit and micromanaged. You can feel the notes in the frame: never look into the camera, keep the “docu” sheen, polish every inch. It’s so controlled that when a potsticker “crown” sticks or a flip falters—aka the good stuff—the vibe short-circuits instead of loosening up. Actually, I could tell Meghan was mortified when things went wrong instead of brushing it off, which is why I couldn’t buy her joy over perfection. It’s ok to be a type A perfectionist, have you seen Martha Stewart?!

Friends feel cast, not close

The “We’ve been through so much together” patter rarely lands because the conversations feel preloaded. When guests are actual culinary pros, the banter is breezy. When they’re “approved friends,” it’s Stepford-brunch, not friendship. If your besties can’t tease you on camera, it reads like everyone’s terrified of messing up your brand, and it’s not authentic. How about you stop pretending these people are your friends or that you’re super close and instead just treat this like it is what it is, a job! In my opinion, these friends feel casted and some were probably hook-ups from your agent or publicist.

The identity rebrand muddies the room

Gently correcting the guest who is supposed to be a friend to call you “Meghan Sussex” isn’t a scandal; it’s just…strategic. But stitched into a show that already feels stage-managed, it reads like a talking point and something that I want the public to know. P.S., for folks familiar with the royal family and how titles work, we see this for what it is: a petty move. Is it an archaic system? Absolutely. But Meghan will never be on equal footing, no matter what name she bestows on herself and her family.

The “joy over perfection” line doesn’t match the footage

Joy is messy. Joy has spilled sauce and crooked place cards and a kid stealing a strawberry off the tart. Joy also looks like your guests are actually eating the food—Fish! Dumplings! Tacos!—instead of propping for the shot. The show declares joy, but it delivers control.

The Core Problem: We Still Don’t Know Her

I didn’t know who Meghan was pre-Harry; a lot of people I know (minus my friend Laura who I met in America) didn’t either. With Love Meghan was her clean shot—not from the view of the press but though her lens and creative oversight—to finally show us the person, not the headlines. But Season 1 proves she’s still guarding the front door. The beekeeping suit, the bath salts, the pastel crudités—lovely staging, little soul. It’s not that she isn’t “relatable.” Martha, Ina, and Jeffrey land because they’re human, not because they’re “just like us.” Meghan might have been a normie but she sure isn’t now, so stop pretending that’s the life you lead.

What Would Fix It (And I’d Absolutely Watch This Version)

• Ditch the brand gloss for process. Show the flop and the fix. Give measurements. Teach techniques or just be the professional student.
• Go full Selena + Chef. Bring pros in, let them lead, lean into curiosity and humility. I’m tired of everyone being an expert and authority figure.
• Fewer “cast friends,” more real relationships. If your people can’t rib you, they’re not your people on TV.
• If you don’t have “real friends,” get interesting people. Some friends may not want to film so get celebs, influencers, people who inspire you, people you want to meet.
• Name the commerce. “I’m selling this jam; here’s how I actually make it (and how you can, too).”
• Tell one true story per episode. “Gardening got me through my mental health breakdown X.” “I learned to cook because I wanted my children to Y.” I used to be a normie and then I married a prince, so doing Z helped get me through.” That’s the show.

So…Should You Watch?

If you want gorgeous background TV—aesthetic therapy while you clean and fold laundry—yes. If you want a lifestyle show with a pulse, you’ll be frustrated. There’s a warm version of this series living just under the marble. Season 2 could be great if it stops auditioning and perfecting and starts living.

I’ll say the quiet part out loud: Meghan could have remade this genre by loosening her grip and letting us see the human being. People love people they know, like, and trust. Right now, the hive is humming, the table is stunning, the calligraphy is flawless—and the door to the actual person is clearly staying shut.

What did you think? If you watched With Love Meghan, tell me the moment you finally leaned in—or noped out. What did you learn about Meghan in this show? I’m genuinely curious.

Also check out: With Love, Meghan Season 2 Review: She Listened to the Haters—It’s Better… But Still Not Good