Sam, I'm glad you found love after the divorce from hell. But there's something about your happy ending that doesn't sit well with me - and women are starting to talk: AMANDA GOFF

I'll start with a disclaimer. In the War of the Burgesses, I have always been Team Sam.

'Why not side with poor Phoebe?' I hear you ask. Well, there's a few reasons - some I won't mention here - but Sam, for all his faults, is a cheeky Yorkshireman at heart. A rugby league great. Salt of the earth. And yes, easy on the eyes.

After he parted ways with 70 per cent of the marital wealth in his divorce, I was genuinely pleased to learn he'd found love with an English girl whom he had known since his early teens.

They're genuinely a lovely couple.

I bumped into Sam and Lucy on the streets of Bondi just before they left for their new beginning in Cheshire - a picturesque corner of northwest England, about two hours from where he was brought up.

Lucy, a former hairdresser from Leeds, was pregnant at the time with their first child together - daughter Robbie, now two - and I was struck by how happy they seemed, giddy with excitement about their future in England.

I was, and still am, extremely happy for them. You would know by now I don't suffer fools gladly, but I've always had a soft spot for Sam, even though he's no saint.

You'll probably remember Sam and Phoebe's split as the eastern suburbs divorce from hell. After it all blew up, Phoebe had the last word courtesy of a warts-and-all interview with The Australian's Sharri Markson in which she excoriated her husband and the culture of the NRL (Sam denied the allegations in the article). She was entitled to tell her side of the story - and I've always believed in women speaking up for themselves - but I equally admired Sam maintaining a dignified silence through it all.

I like that kind of stoic grit - taking it on the chin and building yourself back up again. When we found out he had a new girlfriend, and that they were marrying and having a child together, I was honestly thrilled for him.

But – and there's always a but, isn't there? – happy endings aren't always neat and wrapped in a pretty bow.

Real life isn't a Hollywood movie; it's a bloody mess at times. It can be complicated and unfair. Especially if you're an ex-wife.

Because while Sam is building a beautiful new chapter with Lucy on the other side of the world - with baby number two on the way - there are still two children back in the Southern Highlands with the Burgess surname. They live with their mum Phoebe, who continues to receive the support of her parents, Mitchell and Sarah Hooke.

And that's the part that makes women like me pause.

Not because Sam has done anything wrong – he hasn't, and I am in no way suggesting Sam isn't a good father. I know that he is and I don't doubt he sees his eldest kids regularly, clocking up many frequent flyer points in the process.

But the story of Sam Burgess is one we have seen so many times before. Ironically, it is a story many in the eastern suburbs - Sam's old stomping ground - know well.

I'm talking about men who come out of a divorce and simply... press the reset button. New wife, new children, new postcode. And yes, sometimes a new country. It's the same love story with similar family snaps - just with a different cast of characters.

Again, there are no villains here - we're all entitled to start again after divorce. But, just for a moment, try to imagine a pregnant Phoebe jetting to England with a new husband and baby, while her eldest two live with dad and his girlfriend in Sydney.

You can't, can you? The public backlash would be nuclear. The mum-shaming would be brutal.

But when men do this - and we see it time and time again – it is simply accepted. Indeed, some celebrate blokes having a second family - with many assuming it is a fitting response to when an ex-wife gets primary custody.

But this isn't about Sam - and I stress that I don't have insider knowledge of his family situation. He is merely a notable example of a trend women see time and time again.

I've seen many men pushing Fendi strollers around Double Bay, with their Rolexes and combovers, alongside their younger wives - while their eldest kids are starting university. Same man, same story, posher pram.

I'm torn between being happy for them and rolling my eyes at how clichéd it all is. In the end, I just think of their ex-wives.

And therein lies the issue I struggle with the most. I was talking to my girlfriends recently - some divorced, some married - and what struck me was that we all agreed it's fine to move on after a relationship ends. But when you see men walking down the aisle and fathering children while their divorce is still relatively recent, you do wonder if they've done the work of coming to grips with why their first marriage ended.

Every divorced woman I know has been to therapy. They see clearly why their marriage failed - and the part they played in it. Or at least they are trying to.

What I want to know is - have these men done the work too? Or are we watching the same situation happen again, with new players but (possibly) the same ending?

Women rarely get that luxury of pressing the reset button. We can't just swap husbands, have more babies and expect a round of applause. We are expected to do the heavy lifting with the kids while also rebuilding ourselves from the ground up. 

And when we move on, there's usually someone out there sneering that it's 'too soon'.

So yes, Sam deserves happiness. As does every man who falls in love after divorce.

My only hope is that they aren't simply replacing the old with the new, hoping Wife No. 2 will be less of a drag than Wife No. 1, while taking zero accountability for why it all went wrong in the first place. Have they taken a good, hard look at why their marriage ended, before rushing into a new one? If the answer is yes, then fine. If not...

That's why I hold my applause whenever I see another male acquaintance pop up on Facebook with a big announcement just a few short years after separating.

My mind drifts to the ex who used to have pride of place in his profile picture, and wonder whether she's doing the lion's share of the parenting.

I've wrestled with how to end this, but I'll let Phoebe have the last word - or, more specifically, four words, which you can find in her Instagram bio: 'Solo mum of two.'