Before my Counting Years blog, I sat down almost weekly and wrote for my Stepmother Stories blog, an outlet for me over the course of two and a half years during a period of mass chaos for our households. Through the course of our entire relationship, of course, there have been ups and downs, highs and lows, but for the two plus years I wrote Stepmother Stories, there were only lows.
I was encouraged when we were all in agreement to end the court appearances and talking through lawyers and work this out ourselves, and for, most importantly, the child involved. Actually, all of the children involved, as we realized we did not want the chaos and misguided hate affecting their lives as well.
Slowly, I thought a friendship was building, and, it probably was. But life events turned everything upside down, and now, peace seems fragile, and my relationship with my stepson's mother is virtually non-existent.
For many years I wished it would be that way, but now, honestly, it saddens me. I don't know what tipped the cup, but now I am completely on the outside, and it's a strange place to be.
There have been a lot of wrongs committed. A lot has been done to me; a lot has been done to her. I'm sure if she was speaking, she could recite a long list of what I've done that she didn't like and vice versa. I'm not concerned with that.
What concerns me is that I've been so reticent over the years to admit to some hard truths, like the fact that her freezing me out over the years, and now, hurts my feelings. It was damn near impossible for me to tell her she was right. Ever. I've been very headstrong in doing things my way without consulting her. I see now that was wrong. But it's hard for me to apologize, it's hard to say now I understand what you were saying, it's hard for me to bridge the gaps that still exist, because when it comes right down to it, I can't do it alone.
So here's my open letter to my stepson's mother, even though I'm still not sure, as I write this, what it is I want to say.
To My Stepson's Mom
I was never the kind of little girl to put a pillowcase on her head, grab some flowers and walk down the hallway, pretending I was playing wedding day. I was outside in the mud.
So no, I didn't ever dream of my wedding day. I did, however, have some passing thoughts.
When I briefly thought of marriage, or children, I certainly didn't think I would marry someone who already had been. And I definitely thought when I held my baby for the very first time, it would be his first time too.
It was not.
These facts were hard for me to deal with, hard for me to process, and I dealt with it the best I could, which is to say, probably not very well. At all.
I know now that I should have consulted you more, that I should have encouraged my then boyfriend/now husband to coparent, as you desired. But it felt better to do it our way, because for me it was gaining back that piece of control I had lost by not being the first.
I did not expect the first child I would raise would not be my own, and I did the best I could. I tried to make him feel he was with a motherly figure when he wasn't with his mother, but I knew the truth, every minute of every day, and that truth was that I was not his mother, and that he wanted to be with you. The only part of that scenario that bothered me, just a little bit, was that I didn't get the unconditional love that comes with being a biological parent. Now that I'm a mother I see the undeniable bond I have with my children that cannot be duplicated. And it's not that I wanted to replace you. Ever. There was just something to be said about doing everything that a parent does, but not being one. There was always something that felt...absent.
It doesn't help that we are such opposite personalities. I hope one day we can learn to gain strength from those differences. It took me a long time to learn that the way I prefer to do things is not the right way, it's just my way. I do allow for differences, but I can still be harsh. Judgmental. I try not to be. I'll try harder.
My wish is for a mutual respect for each other's lives, our differences, and for an open dialogue even during the times when we all vehemently disagree. Our situations are all difficult and our lives have all changed - keep changing - as the years go by.
I remember a time not too long ago when you would stop over after work to watch The Voice, and just hang. I miss that, and I hope someday in the future that can be a possibility again. What I don't want is for negative situations to affect what is said between us. The decisions made between you and my husband are yours, not mine. I think in the past where it has fallen apart is when one side feels scorned, and I am the one who is vented to, by both parties. At least that's how it used to be. Now I just feel like a stranger, and sometimes like a stranger in my own home.
I love your son and I have always tried to do my best for him. I will always do my best for him, no matter what.
I'm not warm and fuzzy, but here goes nothing. You have done a great job with your son. He is an amazing, caring person who is turning into an incredible young man. I see a lot of you in your son. You have been very accepting of me over the years and have told me time and again that I was doing a great job, or that you were happy I was in your son's life. Thank you. It really means the world to me to hear that.
Now, here's my plea: Don't give up on us. Don't give up on me.
I am still learning, still growing and still figuring some things out. Thank you for always giving second chances, and thank you for being there for me all of the times I've needed it.
-Stepmom
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