I know that look on Princess Kate’s face. Almost three years ago, I was her.

After weeks of wild speculation, the Princess of Wales sat alone and vulnerable in front of the camera and revealed in a video released on Friday what she had kept out of the public eye until now: cancer.

I’m not a princess, of course. Not in public. I’m a web editor at the Detroit Free Press and I live a quiet life. But when I saw her trying to put on a smile on my television screen, I felt like I knew what she was going through in a very unusual and genuine way.

Because I have cancer too.

Princess Kate has cancer. The royal family caused a scandal by botching the story.

Before Friday’s announcement, I was one of those wondering what was going on with the woman who married the future King of England. I exchanged text messages with friends about the likelihood of a Prince William divorce scandal. I scrolled through TikTok, fascinated by the tinfoil conspiracies. I analyzed the TMZ video of them shopping in Windsor, wondering if it was really her.

When we found out about her cancer diagnosis, it was like having cold water thrown at us.

A trauma that cancer patients understand

When I heard those words, my heart sank and I was taken back to the moment I was told my own diagnosis. May 4, 2021, a day that started like any other.

I was 37 years old. Just like the 42-year-old princess, my cancer was discovered during a medical procedure, a routine laparoscopic surgery to drain an ovarian cyst. I was at my doctor’s office thinking it was a routine post-surgery checkup.

Instead, I learned that my doctor had found a tumor and received the diagnosis that would change my life: colon cancer. Within days, I learned it was stage 4. The cancer had already spread to my liver and ovaries. Chemotherapy would begin immediately—and continue indefinitely.

The extensive reporting on Kate’s shocking diagnosis – Kensington Palace has not disclosed what type of cancer she has – is provocative in many ways. As a patient and especially as a mother.

Your friends and family members who have cancer may be feeling the same way, and you may want to check in on them. It’s hard to watch others being struck by the same terrible disease, and knowing what they’re going through is simply unimaginable for others.

The loss of innocence, of normality, of the future we once imagined – it is a trauma that cancer patients understand.

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The worst thing is to tell your child

For me, the first days, weeks and even months after the diagnosis flew by. But I still remember the guilt I felt for my daughter. The thoughts that she might have to live without me raced through my head. But on the outside, I tried to appear strong.

It took me three days to muster the courage to tell my daughter, with my husband by my side, in the quiet living room of our house. She was 6.

We told her that Mom was sick and that I needed chemotherapy. That could make Mom very sick. She cried.

Quality of life counts: Do I need chemotherapy to treat my cancer? The answer changes as treatments improve.

Since then, we have promised her – and kept that promise – to answer all her questions and be honest with her.

For a mother, that can be the hardest part. Kate said in the video that it took some time to tell Prince George, 10, Princess Charlotte, 8, and Prince Louis, 5. Did she have to share the news three times? Did she adapt her words for each of them to suit their age and level of understanding?

A future marked by courage

When you have cancer, you can’t make promises and you don’t know how hard your fight will be.

I’m approaching my third cancer anniversary and will soon be receiving my 48th dose of chemotherapy. I’ve had multiple surgeries, from major abdominal surgery to minimally invasive ablations, and have fervently awaited the results of numerous CT, PET and MRI scans, always hoping for the news that somehow we’ve made it – that the fight is over for me.

It’s heartbreaking and unbelievable to imagine anyone else having to go through this.

As she navigates the turbulent waters of treatment, Kate will no doubt face the uncertainties of the future with grace and dignity, just as she has faced the challenges of royal life.

But beyond the palace walls, there is a greater truth that we must not forget: Cancer doesn’t discriminate. It’s hard, and it happens every day – if you’re lucky – whether you’re a princess or a Macomb County web editor.

As the public rally behind her – and the furore hopefully dies down – I hope we can focus on the hope of a cancer-free future, where stories like Kate’s and mine are not defined by diagnosis, but by courage, resilience and an indomitable fighting spirit.

Elissa Robinson is web editor at the Detroit Free Press., where this column originally appeared.

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This article originally appeared in the Detroit Free Press: Princess Kate has cancer. As a survivor, her diagnosis hit me hard