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Women are the villains of the Beckham family drama

From Meghan Markle comparisons to scathing ‘boy mum’ memes, why are we always so quick to assume that women are the problem? 

I was on my way home from work when Brookyln Peltz-Beckham dropped a 700-word (yes, I checked) bomb of an Instagram story this week. Frantically refreshing my Wi-Fi connection at each tube stop, I was – along with the rest of the nation – caught in a cultural chokehold.

It’s no secret that the vibes have been off at Beckham HQ for a while. Ever since Brooklyn and his wife Nicola Peltz-Beckham wed in 2022 the rumour mill has been cranking out salacious stories of a family rift. And despite some anecdotal evidence raising eyebrows, Brooklyn’s notable absence at major Beckham gatherings has fuelled the flames.

Make no mistake, the details of this alleged feud has been my Roman empire for the past 6 months. The Beckham’s are as close as you can get to royalty in the UK – David being the most famous footballer of all time, and Victoria a pop icon thanks to her stint in the Spice Girls.

Add to that the heavily united front that the Beckham family has always posed to the press, and the concept of a fractured family is enough to get the most celeb-averse amongst us gagging for insights.

But even as I scanned Brooklyn’s statement, lapping up every detail (and boy, were there details), I was struck by the familiar feeling that women were the real victims of this drama. Every office chin-wag and group chat debrief has involved one of two opinions: either Nicola is a crazy possessive wife pulling her husband from his family, or Victoria is an overbearing ‘boy mum’ who’s madly jealous of her son’s wife.

Even Brooklyn’s statement – bar one or two mentions of his father David – is overwhelmingly directed at his mother. Now that’s not to say Victoria hasn’t acted out of turn. None of us will ever truly know what happened, and as is the case with any family, parent/child dynamics are complex at the best of times.

But the Beckham feud is different for its overt publicity, which makes our focus on the women all the more apparent.

The accusations hurled at Nicola have included claims that she’s ‘manipulating’ Brooklyn, ‘pulling the strings’ and ‘controlling’ him. It’s a trope we see time and again in the media – a woman using her power to undermine and bully a man.

Not only is this vilification rooted in misogyny, but it also infantilises the male party. We assume he surely can’t be doing this thing of his own accord – that a domineering woman must be behind it. As if a grown man can’t make his own decisions (given we live in a patriarchal society, it is, ironically, men who usually have more agency).

Nicola has also repeatedly been compared to Meghan Markle, another ‘evil’ woman who tore her husband from his family and has been incessantly dragged through the mud by the press.

As Stylist Magazine’s Amy Beecham writes, this image of the controlling woman ‘goes back as far as Shakespeare’s Lady Macbeth, a ruthless, wily woman who manipulates her husband into murdering King Duncan to seize the throne.’

And as for why we’re so quick to cast women in this role? ‘The answer is, of course, misogyny. We simply can’t accept that a man could be making decisions independently; there must be a (female) puppet master behind it all.’

It’s not just Nicola, either. The biggest talking point of this whole fiasco has been Brooklyn’s claim that Victoria ‘danced very inappropriately’ on him during what was supposed to be his first dance with Nicola at their wedding. Memes and AI videos abound of this mysterious incident, which has already been cemented in pop culture lore.

Funny though they are, they’re also rooted in an assumption about mothers and their children, drawing on stereotypes of women who behave like ‘crazy people’ when their sons get married.

Again, this idea that a mother must be domineering, overbearing, and controlling simply because her male child is marrying another woman, is laced with the same patriarchal stereotypes that constantly pit women against each other.

What’s notably absent from this discourse is any serious interrogation of the men involved. David Beckham has largely escaped scrutiny, cast instead as a passive bystander. Brooklyn himself oscillates between victim and hero, rarely held fully accountable for the public airing of deeply private family grievances.

I’m not blaming Brooklyn, though it’s easy to choose sides when something grips the public consciousness with such aplomb. While we sit a laugh from a distance, this is ultimately a case of familial estrangement – and no matter the details or context, that’s a devastating situation for everyone involved.

But we’re still more comfortable blaming women than confronting the possibility that men – famous or not – can make messy, complicated decisions all on their own.

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