'While I was going through cancer, my husband left me. He said I was "too high maintenance."'

The news that Shannen Doherty died at just 53 years old this week hit me hard.

You see, back in the 90s if you'd told me that one day I would have a lot in common with Shannen Doherty, I would have been thrilled. I coveted her impossibly shiny dark hair, her green eyes and her acting career that meant she got to kiss Luke Perry in 90210 and get paid for it.

Decades later, Shannen Doherty and I have more in common than I could have ever imagined, but sadly it didn't involve shiny hair or handsome actors. Instead, we were both diagnosed with breast cancer in our 40s.

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We were both happily married for years to lovely men.

And then, both of those 'lovely' men dumped us, right when we were both in the fight of our lives.

I knew cancer could be a death sentence, but what I never dreamed was that it would be my marriage that became terminal.

Thanks to the glossy charity campaigns, breast cancer is all pink ribbons, women in headscarves smiling bravely as their loving partners and family support them every step of the way.

But cancer is a thief.

It steals your peace of mind, confidence and vitality... But what it also steals, with an alarming frequency for women is their relationships.

After I was newly diagnosed and reeling in shock, I joined a breast cancer Facebook group. The women there were generous, kind and supportive, but it also became very clear this wasn't the case for many of the men in their lives.

Post after anguished post detailed women who said their husbands were complaining about having to care for the kids while they were bedridden or vomiting from chemo. Others refused to take time off work to care for them or downplayed the seriousness of their diagnosis. Some were pressuring their very ill partners for sex while others sulked because the woman they had married was, quite literally, no longer the woman they had married.

Then there were those who simply announced they wanted a divorce and exited stage left.

My husband initially coped with my cancer treatment by carrying on like nothing had changed, well for him anyway. He continued to work long hours and took just two days off during my year of treatment. He helped care for our kids and took them on a ski trip while I sat at home alone as my body and mental health crumbled. While he never complained out loud, I could feel that I was slowly becoming the inconvenient and irritating elephant in the room of his otherwise unchanged life.

By the time I was in remission, I was a shell. Exhausted, depressed, and broken. At one point, I was sent for scans because it was thought I had bone cancer. I developed an excruciating shoulder condition that left me unable to use my left arm for months and left me in agony day and night. I was also told that the painful swelling in my abdomen was to be a permanent side effect. I was so depressed I had suicidal thoughts and some days I could not get out of bed.

Was I my best self? Definitely not. Was I at the lowest and loneliest point of my life? Yes, I was.

It was around this time, my husband dropped the bombshell. He wanted a divorce. His reasons? I was an angry person; I was too high maintenance. He complained that we were incompatible because I had no energy and spent too much in bed while he liked to keep busy.

And then in what seems like a blur, I went from being financially secure, with a husband and kids and a beautiful home to losing it all. My now ex-husband moved me into a rental apartment and then continued his life in the home we had made together with our kids and frequently told me without a hint of empathy that I needed to "move on with my life."

Cancer is a thief. 

But cancer can also be a gift.

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Going through the fight of your life, and knowing - just like Shannen, that the cancer could be back any time provides clarity around what is worth caring about and what isn't.

I realised that the man I thought I loved wasn't even prepared to take a few days off work to hold my hand while I cried or sit in those waiting rooms with me while I thought I was going to die. A man who left me alone mid-treatment while he took the kids skiing, saying he was 'giving me a break', when really he was dodging the uncomfortable and the confronting reality that real relationships have to face up to at some point.

I was heartbroken, but I slowly realised there were so many other people who did care and were willing to show up.

Friends, family, colleagues and even neighbours showed up in droves. They never called me toxic or high maintenance, they took time off work to take me to appointments, or to sit with me while I cried. And when my husband decided our marriage was over, they helped me move out of the home I had loved so much and helped me start a brand new life. Even though I was already punched drunk from fighting for it.

So yeah, thanks cancer... but more so thanks to all the women who walked this path before me. Including the honest and feisty Shannen Doherty who showed that even perfect hair and fame don't stop the heartbreak and humiliation of being abandoned by the person who promised to love you in sickness and health when you are quite literally on your knees.

Cancer is a thief.

Cancer is a gift.

People can be terrible.

People can be wonderful.

Rest in power, Shannen.

The author of this story is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons.

Read more of our latest stories about cancer here:

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• When Rhiannon was pregnant, doctors told her she had hemorrhoids. The truth was far worse.

Feature image: Getty. 

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