Well, if if anti-depressants work for Brook Shields, why isn’t that okay? I I disagree with it, and I think that there’s a higher and better quality of life. It started with what was supposed to be just another Tom Cruz press stop, a summer blockbuster, War of the Worlds, Matt Lowour on the Today Show, a charming Hollywood A-lister doing the usual media rounds.

 Nobody expected that interview to turn into one of the most bizarre and talked about moments of his entire career. Nearly 20 years later, Brooke Shields is spilling secrets about her public feud with Tom Cruz after he went off about her anti-depressant use on the Today Show. But then Tom Cruz leaned forward in his chair, locked eyes with Lowour, and started a rant.

And she doesn’t understand the history of psychiatry. She She doesn’t understand in the same way that you don’t understand it, man. Not about aliens or film or stunts, but about Brook Shields, about anti-depressants, about motherhood. And it wasn’t measured or thoughtful. It was sharp, combative, almost evangelical.

All the work that I have done to to really find belief and confidence in my own self. It was about really processing it all my whole life and my own time ter times and on my own terms. He accused her of being irresponsible for taking anti-depressants during her battle with postpartum depression. He said the medication didn’t cure anything.

 He dismissed the idea of chemical imbalances altogether. And in that moment, what should have been a movie promo became a cultural flash point. Another movie I’ve got to ask you about as well. It is in cinemas here as well. It is Louis Thu’s movie. My Scientology movie. Now look, which what is that? It’s my Scientology movie by Louis 3.

What do you think about the fact that people are still making these films? Do you care? Do you have a view on it at all? No. You know what? It’s it’s something that has helped me incredibly in my life. And I’ve been Scientologist for over 30 years. And um it’s something that as as you know without it uh I wouldn’t be where I am, you know.

 So it’s a beautiful religion and I’m very proud. Brook Shields wasn’t even there. She was at home watching just like everyone else. And when she heard his words, she was stunned. This wasn’t some internet troll or anonymous critic. It was one of the most famous men in the world, a mega star, publicly mocking her deeply personal experience with postpartum depression.

 Shields had written about it in her memoir, Down Came the Rain, hoping to reassure other mothers that what they were going through didn’t make them faulty or broken or bad or less than. And now here was Tom Cruz on national television using her name to push a narrative that many found not only uninformed but dangerous. For her, it was more than offensive.

 It was personal. Looking back, she writes that if Cruz had taken a swing at her before she became a mother, she probably would have stayed silent. She might have shrugged it off as celebrity drama and moved on. But motherhood changed her. She was no longer willing to let someone, especially a man who would never experience what she did, hijack her story to fit his own agenda.

You know, in this time in my age, this is a different time. It’s a different era. Matt, Matt, you don’t even you’re glib. So, she picked up her pen and fought back. In an op-ed titled War of Words, published in the New York Times, she called out Cruz’s comments as a disservice to mothers everywhere. She wrote, “To suggest that I was wrong to take drugs to deal with my depression and that instead I should have taken vitamins and exercise shows an utter lack of understanding about postpartum depression and childbirth in general.”

It was bold, direct, and necessary. She wasn’t just defending herself. She was defending countless women who struggled silently. Meanwhile, Cruz was facing his own wave of backlash. His comments were seen as condescending, unscientific, and wildly out of touch. For many, it was a crack in the carefully crafted image of the charming action hero.

 Behind the scenes, it was clear he’d gone too far. But publicly, he stood by his statements for a while, digging into his opposition to psychiatric medication, echoing sentiments rooted in his Scientology beliefs. The feud between Cruz and Shields became tabloid fuel. It was personal, ideological, and cultural all at once.

 Then, quietly, something unexpected happened. About a year later, Tom Cruz showed up at Brook Shield’s doorstep. No cameras, no publicists, no press conference, just him standing at her door, ready to say something that at the height of their feud few thought they’d hear. He apologized, not publicly, which, as Shields has pointed out, would have been the right thing to do, but privately in her living room, according to her memoir.

 E told her he felt cornered by Matt Lowauour during the interview that he lashed out at her because she was an easy target, not because she deserved it. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t poetic, but it was what he was capable of in that moment. Shields described the apology as heartfelt, if not flawless. It wasn’t the world’s best apology, she later reflected, but it’s what he was capable of, and I accepted it.

 She didn’t demand a press conference or a public gravel. She chose to meet him where he was. During a 2006 appearance on the Tonight Show, she told Jay Leno, “He came over to my house and he gave me a heartfelt apology and he apologized for bringing me into the whole thing and for everything that happened. And through it all, I was so impressed with how heartfelt it was.

 and I didn’t feel at any time that I had to defend myself. Nor did I feel that he was trying to convince me of anything other than the fact that he was deeply sorry and I accepted it. Behind that calm acceptance, though, was a woman who had learned how to reclaim her power. Shields has since said that writing that op-ed wasn’t just about setting the record straight.

 It was about standing up for herself in a way she might not have been able to a decade earlier. In the past, she admits she might have felt insecure, wondering if a powerful male star was derailing her career. She might have retreated. let the story die down and moved on quietly. But becoming a mother gave her both the clarity and the courage to respond.

 She called Cruz’s comments what they were. Irrational and dangerous comments from an unschooled actor who was speaking way out of his depth. And that act of standing up for herself had ripple effects far beyond their personal feud. In fact, there was a strange silver lining to what the media dubbed cruise gate. The controversy brought unprecedented attention to postpartum depression, a subject that had long been hushed or misunderstood.

 Shields became a vocal advocate for maternal mental health. In 2007, she even testified before Congress in support of the Mother’s Act, a bill focused on combating postpartum depression through research and support programs. She has said that his ignorance inspired women to get on their pedestals and scream for their rights and their bodies.

 What began as a hurtful public attack ended up amplifying her voice and giving the issue a national platform. As for Cruz, the apology marked a turning point of sorts. His 2005 interview had done real damage to his public image. The couch jumping incident on Oprah, his combative conversation with Matt Lowauour, and his statements about Shields, all combined into a period that many consider his most controversial.

 The private apology didn’t erase the past, but it showed a rare moment of vulnerability, a recognition that he’d crossed a line. Shields didn’t need him to become her ally. She just needed him to acknowledge what he had done, and he did in his own imperfect way. Two decades later, the story still lingers because it wasn’t just about two celebrities clashing.

 It was about power dynamics, gender, mental health, and the way public figures can shape conversations sometimes irresponsibly. Brook Shields was a woman sharing her truth, and Tom Cruz was a global icon challenging it from a position of authority he didn’t fully understand. When he finally knocked on her door to apologize, it wasn’t the climactic Hollywood moment people might imagine.

 There was no grand speech, no sweeping music, just a quiet conversation between two people. One admitting fault, the other choosing grace. exposed a side of him that was combative, dogmatic, and unfiltered. For Shields, it revealed strength, clarity, and the ability to transform an attack into a platform for change. And in the end, when Cruz showed up at her door, apology in hand, it wasn’t about headlines.

 It was about two human beings facing the fallout of a very public moment. Today, when people look back at that infamous 2005 interview, it’s almost surreal. Cruz, one of the biggest stars in the world, lecturing a woman about a medical condition he’d never experienced. shields blindsided, then firing back with grace and precision. And years later, the quiet knock on the door that closed the loop.

 It’s a reminder that even in Hollywood, where egos are massive and apologies are rare, moments of accountability, however flawed, can still happen. Tom Cruz’s apology might not have been perfect, but it was real. And for Brook Shields, that was