Dustin Hoffman, known for his roles in movies like “Tootsie” and “Rain Man,” kept a big secret about his health. In 2013, when he was 75 years old, he shared that he had been treated for throat cancer. He didn’t talk about it after that.
Hoffman became famous in 1967 with his role in “The Graduate.” He got nominated for an Oscar for that movie. After that, he starred in more famous films like “All the President’s Men” in 1976 and “Kramer vs. Kramer” in 1979, where he won an Oscar for Best Actor.
In 1983, he was in “Tootsie,” where he played a man who pretends to be a woman to get an acting job.
In the famous movie where Dustin Hoffman dressed up as a woman, he was called a “nottie” instead of a “hottie,” which made him very sad.
He said in an interview, “If I was going to be a woman, I would want to be as beautiful as possible, and they said to me, ‘That’s as good as it gets.’ Uh, that’s as beautiful as we can get you.”
When he heard that he wasn’t considered very pretty, it made him really upset. This made him realize something important about how women are treated.
“I went home and started crying,” Hoffman says. “I think I’m an interesting woman, when I look at myself on-screen, and I know that if I met myself at a party I would never talk to that character because she doesn’t fulfill, physically, the demands that we’re brought up to think women have to have in order for us to ask them out.”
Even though the comedy he was in was the second most popular movie that year – “E.T. The Extraterrestrial” was number one – Dustin Hoffman didn’t find it funny.
He said, “…that was never a comedy for me.”
But despite that, Hoffman became one of the most famous actors in Hollywood.
He won his second Oscar for the 1988 movie “Rain Man” and also won six Golden Globes and one Primetime Emmy.
In 2013, the actor, who is usually busy with his career, became quiet.
Just a few months after Dustin Hoffman directed the British comedy “Quartet” in 2012, and shortly after finishing filming “Chef” in 2014 with Jon Favreau and Sofia Vergara, his representative told the world why the beloved actor had been out of the spotlight.
His publicist, Jodi Gottlieb, shared with People (through ABC News) that Hoffman had been successfully treated for cancer, something he had kept private. She said, “It was detected early, and he has been surgically cured. Dustin is feeling great and is in good health.”
Although not much detail was given, reports suggested he had throat cancer. Even though he was 75 at the time, he continued with treatments to prevent it from coming back.
But Hoffman didn’t let this slow him down. He continued to work, lending his voice to Master Shifu in more “Kung Fu Panda” movies and starring in other films like “Sam and Kate” in 2022 and the sci-fi drama “Megalopolis” in 2024.
In early March 2024, Hello! reported that Hoffman and his wife Lisa Gottsegen, whom he married in 1980, were seen walking together in London, showing affection.
They wrote, “The Hollywood legend looked years younger than 86 as he smiled and waved at the cameras. He was tanned and carefree as he strolled through the city and ducked into boutiques with his wife of 43 years.“
Although Hoffman hasn’t spoken publicly about his cancer battle, it seems he’s doing well. Let us know what you think of this story and share it so we can hear what others think too!
MY HUSBAND GOT ANOTHER WOMAN PREGNANT WHILE I WAS ON A BUSINESS TRIP – MY REVENGE MADE HIM SOB.
The sterile scent of antiseptic and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor had become the soundtrack of my life. My three-year-old son, Leo, lay frail in the hospital bed, his small body battling a relentless illness. And while I navigated the labyrinth of medical jargon and the agonizing uncertainty of Leo’s condition, my husband, Jacob, was betraying me.
A business trip, he’d called it. A chance to network, to secure a better future for our family. Little did I know, the “networking” involved his colleague, Jessie, and a betrayal that would shatter my world.
Jessie’s message arrived like a poisoned arrow, delivered through the cold, impersonal medium of a text message. “Jacob and I… we’re expecting.”
The words blurred before my eyes, the world tilting on its axis. Leo’s illness, the stress, the exhaustion – it all paled in comparison to the searing pain of betrayal. Jacob, the man I had loved for eight years, the father of my sick child, had abandoned us for another woman.
He packed his bags, his movements devoid of remorse. His parting words, callous and cruel, echoed in my ears: “I don’t regret anything. I’m fed up with you and this little burden.”
He left, leaving me to pick up the pieces, to face Leo’s illness alone, to navigate the wreckage of our shattered life.
But amidst the devastation, a flicker of resolve ignited within me. Jacob wouldn’t get away with this. He wouldn’t escape the consequences of his actions. He needed to learn a lesson, a harsh, unforgettable lesson.
I waited, patiently, for the initial storm to subside. I focused on Leo, on his recovery, on rebuilding a life for us, a life without Jacob. I buried my anger, nurturing it, shaping it into a weapon.
Months later, when the dust had settled, I reached out to Jacob. I invited him over, suggesting we discuss the terms of our separation, the logistics of parental rights. He arrived, his demeanor smug, his eyes filled with a self-satisfied gleam. He thought he had won. He thought he had escaped unscathed.
We sat at the kitchen table, the same table where we had shared countless meals, countless memories. I spoke calmly, rationally, discussing the legalities, the practicalities. He nodded along, his eyes never leaving mine, a predatory glint in their depths.
He left that day, beaming, convinced he had secured a favorable outcome. He thought he had manipulated me, played me for a fool.
But the real game was just beginning.
A week later, I filed a lawsuit against Jacob. Not for alimony, not for child support, but for full custody of Leo. And I didn’t stop there. I included a detailed account of his infidelity, his abandonment of a sick child, his callous disregard for our family. I attached Jessie’s text message, the one that had shattered my world, as evidence.
The lawsuit landed on his doorstep like a thunderbolt. He called me, his voice trembling, his bravado shattered.
“What is this?” he demanded, his voice laced with panic.
“It’s a lawsuit, Jacob,” I replied, my voice cool. “For full custody of Leo.”
“You can’t do this!” he sputtered. “I’m his father!”
“You abandoned him, Jacob,” I said, my voice flat. “You abandoned us both. You forfeited your right to be a father.”
“But… but Jessie,” he stammered. “We’re having a baby.”
“Congratulations,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Perhaps you’ll learn from your mistakes this time.”
The lawsuit was a public humiliation. It was splashed across local news websites, gossip columns, and social media. Jacob’s reputation, his career, his new relationship – all were tarnished.
He tried to fight back, to discredit me, to paint me as a vindictive ex-wife. But the evidence was irrefutable. His actions spoke louder than any words.
The court granted me full custody of Leo. Jacob was granted supervised visitation rights, a stark reminder of his betrayal. He was ordered to pay child support, a financial burden that would haunt him for years to come.
He sobbed in the courtroom, his tears a pathetic display of remorse. But it was too late. He had made his choices, and now he had to live with the consequences.
Leo, thankfully, made a full recovery. We rebuilt our lives, stronger, more resilient. We found a community of support, a network of friends who embraced us, who helped us heal.
Jacob, on the other hand, was left with nothing but regret. He had traded a loving family for a fleeting affair, a moment of selfish gratification. He had learned his lesson, a harsh, unforgettable lesson. And I, in turn, had found my strength, my voice, my revenge.
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