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After Kate’s shocking announcement that she was being treated for cancer, I read numerous news reports applauding the 373 percent increase in Internet searches for the word “cancer.” Incredible, and without a doubt this will save lives.
Kate’s openness not only encouraged others to seek advice, but managed to erase any vestiges of shame about having the disease. I doubt a single action by a member of the royal family has had such an impact, certainly not since Princess Diana held the hands of AIDS sufferers and spoke about her struggle with bulimia and her mental health.
But I believe Kate’s composure will have a more far-reaching effect that will also change millions of mindsets.
The Princess of Wales in her video message. “I was very touched that, on a day when she must have been shaking with nerves and no doubt tired, she had put so much effort into her appearance,” writes Liz Jones.
As I watched Kate’s video message, I was clutching a cushion, choking back sobs that made my throat hurt. And finally I saw the woman behind the immaculate outfits, the composure, the smile. What touched me most was that, on a day when she must have been shaking with nerves and undoubtedly tired, she had put so much effort into her appearance; She even had her hair done for us. She had dressed: simply, in jeans and a Breton T-shirt, but still immaculate. She straightened up.
The most important thing is that he managed to crack a smile. Her concern seemed to be for us and her family. She only stumbled over her words once, and it made her seem more human. Her composure reminded me of the late Queen, who could easily have lamented the loss of her freedom when she ascended the throne at just 25 years old. They both put us first. I also remember my mother, paralyzed by arthritis and dementia, but who managed to parrot two phrases that she repeated to anyone who asked her: “I’m fine” and “I’m getting better, thank you.”
What a contrast, what a revelation, when we are all encouraged to wallow, to acknowledge our own grief, to ‘take care’ of ourselves above all else: a message spread through self-help books, podcasts, calming products and candles.
Before Kate’s video aired, she had spent a week almost having a nervous breakdown. She was so stressed that she couldn’t eat or think clearly. She was shaking and sweating, facing decisions that could change my life: moving house, moving in with a man, changing my daily routine. She couldn’t even bathe me let alone wash my hair, what’s the point of her? Nobody could help me, nobody could give me advice. All I could do was escape into mindless television. I couldn’t even concentrate to read a book: the words danced on the page.
But as I watched Kate, I realized that the only thing that matters is our health. I once wrote in a column, in a moment of miscalculated anger wrapped in self-pity, that she would “rather have cancer than go bankrupt.” When you have money problems, no one feels sorry for you, because they think it’s all your stupid fault…No one shows up with a pot of stew, or flowers, or help.’
Watching a young woman – who has three young children and responsibilities – face cancer with stoicism and grace made me feel deeply ashamed. What a complaining nation we have become. Especially women, who are so easily affected by screaming cats, menopause, and anyone who treats us disrespectfully in any way. He put it into perspective that at any moment we could be knocked down by something really serious and life-threatening.
Kate changed my way of thinking. It was like she had flipped a switch. We should appreciate every day. Get up, get dressed. I’ve been a fashion writer for many decades, and I’m only now realizing that what we wear can be a uniform, a show of strength that changes not only how we look, but how we feel.
Because if cancer can happen to Kate – so fit, so healthy, seemingly without a care in the world – it can happen to any of us. And with our current me me me attitude, very few will be ready…