My ex-husband and I started dating at 16, and when I met him he already had 2 children, and by the time we were married a total of 4 by other women. Now that alone should have been a run-girl-run factor. But for women there is often something about a man nurturing a child, especially little girls. As a woman I spent my later years growing up without direct guidance from my father so this was particularly true. Either way I pushed forward with the relationship and became an intricate part of the children’s lives, some more so than others, and they a part of mine as well. It was an experience that had its ups and downs.
The kids:
There are so many dynamics at work when it comes to the children. They all had their own interests and talents. As many children do they underestimate and overestimate the wrong abilities at times. In addition to his 4 children, we had 3 of our own. Add to that the factor that each child had a different mother and you have got a big pot of what thee Fuck. When we finally married the kids ranged in age from 14 to 7 months. First as a step mom, I was often subjected to the ‘you ain’t my mama’ syndrome. Sometimes this attitude left me longing to dole out some good ‘ol fashioned corporal punishment. Which I knew in most instances was far from the correct response. While punishment may be in order in varying degrees determining how to best punish each child individually was in itself a challenge. Children do not understand they are all truly different individuals and respond to things differently and so an individualized punishment is required. They think each one should receive the same or similar punishment. They never factor in age, character, temperament etc they just want what is “fair.” While I did administer a spanking or two in my day, it was only after their father instructed me to do so. Of his other children only two were at the house with us full time, the other two erratically throughout the relationship which never really gave me the chance to connect with them on any level other than that of a caretaker.
For the most part the kids were a tight nit group, they played together of course and picked on each other as siblings do. They stuck up for one another, and cared for each other as well. I knew I could trust them to keep one another safe on outings and at school. When they are all together still to this day there is nothing I love more than the sound of their laughter. Every so often I would catch wind of a bit of the trickle-down effect of my kids being subject to the other kids not liking me for whatever reason. My oldest daughter for instance was often the target of relentless teasing by her older sisters about her hair. While most people assume being black means you can braid hair, yeah no it doesn’t, and I can’t. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t try to learn. When I was a kid playing with dolls and doing hair was not my forte. I was more likely to experiment hence my propensity towards the sciences but I digress. My attempts at learning generally played out on my daughter’s head. Now while it wasn’t professional it also wasn’t the worst for a woman with tendinitis who sometimes can’t hold a brush I did a darn good job. But still they teased as black girls do, about the styles and the length, etc., etc pushing my daughter into a state of rebellion surrounding her hair. They teased so relentlessly in fact that, it took me years after their influence was no longer in the house to get her trust back about how to care for her hair. To date my daughters most common nightmare is of her hair falling out.
One of my stepdaughters in particular was extremely difficult once she became a teenager. She contradicted me at every turn. Even though it was hard and some days I just wanted to snap, I tried my best to still do things for her from the same place of love and at the same level. There was some days that I cried when I was alone, but I couldn’t understand what I was doing wrong. There were also days when I was so livid at the level of disrespect I thought I might completely lose my shit.
The Mothers:
Wooooo, what can I say. It may not have been so difficult if there weren’t so many of us. Or perhaps if we were all focused on the same common goal, raising capable, intelligent happy, adults. Dealing with the moms was not something I would wish on any woman. None of us gave birth at an age where maturity and self awareness was already on board. Even though I made it a goal to never talk to the children about their moms in a negative light directly or indirectly that doesn’t mean they never caught the off color comment or even the jist of how I felt about somebody else’s mom at the moment. I wish it was a standard we all strove for but it was not the case in my regard it seemed. I was often subject to very hurtful and hateful comments delivered to me via the children, along with unnecessary defiance at times. Statements like my mom said I don’t have to listen to you, which always struck me as foolish. What intelligent woman instructs her child to defy authority? Unless I am instructing them to do things that are illegal or otherwise wrong they should be listening. They would talk about my looks; my body, my clothes, my hair, my demeanor, everything. I don’t know who made it harder sometimes, the kids or their moms. It is already hard enough trying to corral 7 personalities without extra outside influence. I don’t even know the source of the problem. Had I not dated/married my ex I would have never known any of them. We have nothing in common that would have generated a friendship and the paths of our lives would have never crossed but for that one commonality.
Me:
I spent most of time trying to be, and some days pretending to be the bigger person, trying to put myself in the children’s shoes. My relationship with my own step mother was extremely rocky at best for the first decade, so I know how that can affect a child’s relationship with their dad. I attempted to be neutral but mostly ended up being a doormat. I paid child support, bought clothes, shoes, fed and housed children that essentially seemed to resent me. Nonetheless I tried to do things for them as if they were mine. All of my step children but one, in fact at some point called me mom. Of all of them the only one I feel that I failed was the youngest. His parents insisted when he was about 2 or 3 that I stop doing things for him that a mother naturally does. The only way for me to do that was to emotionally distance myself from him, something I have always regretted. Because I accepted that demand I feel like he and I missed out, because he is one awesome kid. Given a second chance I would never exclude any child from what is given freely to everyone else just because another parent is feeling inadequate. Even though I can’t correct the situation I do hope that it didn’t have too many lasting effects on him and the man he will become. Towards the end of marriage when everything seemed to just be compounding I still could never quite give up. The mess that was the relationship, though it involved them was not because of them. Certainly there were some times where they added to the stress of it.
To this day I still make an effort to get the children together since some are grown and others are still at home. When they invite me somewhere I make an effort to be present. If they are sick or need me, my ears, or just some understanding if they call me I’m there. Probably the most gratifying moment for me as a stepparent was when my step daughter called me to apologize for her behavior as a child. She explained where she was emotionally and why some things were so hard for her, and she thanked me for everything I had ever done for her. That one call made it all worth it, and signified for me why I should never give up on doing what is right, even when it is hard.
My advice to anyone considering being a stepparent, meet every interested party first, and trust your instincts. There are multiple dynamics at work, and you are making a commitment to not only your new partner but the children as well. Expect to be pissed at times, expect to be sad, expect to feel a little crazy, and like an outsider at times too. You can also expect to feel loved, and appreciated. The biggest factors in what you get out of your experience as a stepparent is what you put into it as with anything else, and what your motives are. What I have got was a roller coaster full of fear, excitement, laughter, and joy, and the best part is even though most of them are grown, the ride is pressing forward with all new twists and turns to come.
Originally published 5/4/16