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 Parents Refused to Attend My Wedding Because My Fiancé Was Poor — We Met 10 Years Later and They Begged to Build a Relationship
When Emma fell in love with a humble teacher, her parents gave her an ultimatum: choose him or them. On her wedding day, their seats sat empty, but her grandpa stood by her side. At his funeral ten years later, her estranged parents begged for her forgiveness, but not for the reasons she thought.
Growing up in our pristine suburban home, my parents had a running joke about how we’d all live in a grand mansion someday.
A mansion with a formal garden | Source: Pexels
“One day, Emma,” my father would say, adjusting his already-perfect tie in the hallway mirror, “we’ll live in a house so big you’ll need a map to find the kitchen.”
My mother would laugh, the sound like crystal glasses clinking, adding, “And you’ll marry someone who’ll help us get there, won’t you, sweetheart?”
“A prince!” I’d reply when I was a kid. “With a big castle! And lots of horses!”
An excited girl with her hands in the air | Source: Midjourney
I thought it was funny throughout my early childhood. I even used to daydream about my future castle. But by high school, I understood there was nothing funny about it at all.
My parents were relentless. Every decision they made, every friendship they had, and every activity we attended had to advance our social climbing somehow.
Mom vetted my friends based on their parents’ tax brackets! I don’t think I’ll ever forget how she sneered when I brought my classmate Bianca over to work on our science project.
A woman with a disapproving look | Source: Midjourney
“You aren’t friends with that girl, are you?” Mom asked at dinner that evening.
I shrugged. “Bianca’s nice, and she’s one of the top students in class.”
“She’s not good enough for you,” Mom replied sternly. “Those cheap clothes and awful haircut says it all, top student or not.”
A strange feeling churned in my gut when Mom said those words. That was when I truly realized how narrow-minded my parents were.
A teen girl seated at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
Dad was no better. He networked at my school events instead of watching my performances.
I still remember my leading role in “The Glass Menagerie” senior year. Father spent the entire show in the lobby discussing investment opportunities with the parents of my cast mates.
“Did you see me at all?” I asked him afterward, still in my costume.
“Of course, princess,” he replied, not looking up from his phone. “I heard the applause. Must have been wonderful.”
A man using his phone while his sad teen daughter stands nearby | Source: Midjourney
Then came college and Liam.
“A teacher?” My mother had practically choked on her champagne when I told her about him. “Emma, darling, teachers are wonderful people, but they’re not exactly… well, you know.”
She glanced around our country club as if someone might overhear this shameful secret.
I knew exactly what she meant, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t care.
A woman with a determined look on her face | Source: Midjourney
Liam was different from anyone I’d ever met. While other guys tried to impress me with their parents’ vacation homes or luxury cars, he talked about becoming a teacher with such passion it made his whole face light up.
When he proposed, it wasn’t with an enormous diamond in a fancy restaurant. It was with his grandmother’s ring in the community garden where we’d had our first date.
The stone was small but caught the sunlight in a way that made it look like it held all the stars in the universe.
A diamond ring sparkling in sunlight | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t give you a mansion,” he said, his voice shaking slightly, “but I promise to give you a home filled with love.”
I said yes before he could even finish asking.
My parents’ response was arctic.
“Not that teacher!” my father had spat as though he was talking about some criminal. “How will he provide for you? For us? You’ll be throwing your future in the trash if you marry him!”
A man gesturing angrily during dinner | Source: Midjourney
“He already provides everything I need,” I told them. “He’s kind, he makes me laugh, and he—”
“I forbid it!” Dad interrupted. “If you go through with this, if you marry that teacher…”
“Then we’ll cut you off,” Mom finished, her voice sharp as glass. “Call him right this minute and break up with him, or we’ll disown you. We didn’t invest so much time and effort in your upbringing only for you to throw it all away.”
My jaw dropped.
A woman gasping in disbelief during dinner | Source: Midjourney
“You can’t be serious,” I whispered.
“It’s him or us,” Dad replied, his face like stone.
I’d known my parents might have a hard time accepting Liam, but this? I couldn’t believe they’d make such an impossible demand.
But the hard look on their faces made it clear their decision was final. I knew I had to make a choice, and it broke my heart.
A sad but determined woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll send you an invitation to the wedding in case you change your minds,” I said before standing up and walking away.
The wedding was small, intimate, and perfect, except for the two empty seats in the front row. But Grandpa was there, and somehow his presence filled the whole church.
He walked me down the aisle, his steps slow but steady, and his grip on my arm was firm and reassuring.
“You picked the right kind of wealth, kid,” he whispered as he hugged me. “Love matters more than money. Always has, always will.”
A bride hugging her grandfather | Source: Midjourney
Life wasn’t easy after that. Liam’s teaching salary and the money I made from freelancing brought in just enough to make ends meet.
We lived in a tiny apartment where the heat only worked when it felt like it, and the neighbor’s music became our constant soundtrack. But our home was full of laughter, especially after Sophie was born.
She inherited her father’s gentle heart and my stubborn streak, a combination that made me proud daily.
A child looking at a book | Source: Pexels
Grandpa was our rock through it all.
He’d show up with groceries when things were tight, though we never told him about our struggles. He’d sit for hours with Sophie, teaching her card tricks and telling her stories about his childhood.
“You know what real wealth is, sweetheart?” I overheard him telling her once. “It’s having people who love you for exactly who you are.”
An elderly man telling stories to his great-granddaughter | Source: Midjourney
“Like how Mommy and Daddy love me?” Sophie had asked.
“Exactly like that,” he’d replied, his eyes meeting mine across the room. “That’s the kind of rich that lasts forever.”
When Grandpa passed away, it felt like losing my foundation. Standing at his funeral, holding Liam’s hand while Sophie pressed against his leg, I could barely get through the eulogy.
Then I saw them — my parents. They were older but still immaculate and approached me with tears during the reception.
A mature couple at a funeral reception | Source: Midjourney
Mother’s pearls caught the light from the stained glass windows, and Father’s suit probably cost more than our monthly rent.
“Emma, darling,” my mother said, reaching for my hands. “We’ve been such fools. Please, can we try to rebuild our relationship?”
For a moment, my heart soared. Ten years of pain seemed ready to heal until Aunt Claire marched up and pulled me aside.
A woman with a grim look | Source: Midjourney
“Emma, honey, don’t fall for it,” she said, her voice low and urgent as she guided me toward a quiet corner, “your parents’ apology isn’t genuine. They’re only doing it because of the condition in your Grandpa’s will.”
“What condition?”
Aunt Claire pursed her lips. “Dad spent years trying to convince your parents to reconcile with you. They always refused, so he put it in his will. The only way your mom will get her inheritance is if they apologize and make peace with you, otherwise, her share of the money will go to charity.”
A woman whispering to someone | Source: Midjourney
The truth hit me like a physical blow. Even now, after all these years, it is still about the money. The tears in their eyes weren’t for me, or Grandpa. They were for their bank account.
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