Becoming theirs: my journey through step-parenting

Merriam Webster defines a stepmother as follows: the wife of one’s parent when distinct from one’s natural or legal mother. I became a stepmother on June 2, 2007. To say my journey has been challenging is an understatement. That goes without saying. I would love to share with you my journey in becoming theirs.

Marrying into a family unit that was formed long before you is a daunting and an utterly terrifying act. Women carry their babies for 9 months before giving birth. I became a mother in the time it takes to say two words; “I do”. When you chose to love a man or woman with children those two words take on a whole new meaning. It is not just your partner that you are vowing to love and cherish. You are committing to loving and cherishing these souls that he brought into the world with another. It is serious. It is an honor. As stepmothers and stepfathers, we are called to sacrificial love with boundaries. We are called to love them purely and wholly. We chose them every day. So how do we do that?

I have been a bonus mama for almost 15 years. While I will never claim to be an expert on any one subject, I do feel confident in telling you that I have some authority on the subject of step-parenting. And I wish I could tell you that I stumbled upon this knowledge because I have been the quintessential portrait of a doting and loving bonus Mom. Unfortunately, we do not gain wisdom by things being easy.

I began this article by telling that you that I was going to share with you my personal journey in mothering another woman’s children. The truth is this story is not just mine. It’s theirs too. And it is to be honored and respected. I had various conversations with my kids about this article and what I was wanting to convey. I asked them two very important quesions, “How did you feel most loved and seen by me?” and “How could I have been better?” I encouraged honesty. Did it scare me a little? Of course it did! I don’t want to find out after almost 15 years my children felt like their life resembled Cinderella’s. Their answers were real and incredibly helpful to me. I think it’s really important that along with hearing from me, you hear from the ones who started this journey to begin with.

Step-parenting is not an ideal situation. Especially for the kids. In a perfect world, which children deserve and yearn for, they envision their Mom and Dad staying together forever. To be there, married, for all of their important days. You must honor and respect this. As much as my kids accepted me with love, it’s not fair that they had to. They did not ask for their parents to get divorced. And they most certainly didn’t chose to gain a new parent. Accept this fact and watch how your kids open their arms to you. Honor them. Communicate with them. Let them know that you understand how unfair it is. I would even go as far as allowing them to feel sad about your marriage to their mother or father. I understand that children thrive when both of their parents are happy and fulfilled. But that does not negate the fact that when their mom or dad move on there is a death of sorts. While you are ecstatic and so happy to begin a new life with this person there are little ones that are mourning. They are mourning the death of their parent’s marriage all over again. They believed in their parents love even when their mother and father couldn’t. They are innocent and their belief in love is astounding and something to be praised and honored. Hold space for them. Be patient. Love them unconditionally. In the space you hold they will heal. Things will shift and the love they learn to believe in is the love you share with their mother or father.

Holding space is something that is crucial in the journey in step-parenting. You must hold space for your children. What does that mean? For me it meant to be patient. Patient with their hearts. I knew they loved me and that they even accepted me. But I was new. I wasn’t their Mom. And truthfully, I never wanted to be. They had a mother who loved them and cared for them like only a mother could. I simply wanted to be a bonus heart in their life who loved them and accepted them for who they were. I wanted to fill in the gaps where their mother and father couldn’t. I wanted to be their safe space. I wanted them to know that they could come to me with anything. I wanted them to know that they would be held and not judged. I just wanted to love them. Holding space also meant honoring the love their mother and father shared. I think this was the hardest part for me personally. But it was the most important facet to this journey.

Loving a man with children is easy. Loving a man who loved another woman? For me, it felt impossible. It was hard. There were dynamics that we were created long before I entered the picture. Learning to understand and respect their journey was very difficult. Finding my place was really hard at first. I wanted to be her friend for the kids. And in the same breath I wanted to punch her. That may be harsh, but I have to be real. This back and forth battle in my mind and body was exhausting. It was causing strain on my own marriage. How stupid! I reminded myself that I chose this love and life. In recognizing my choice I realized I had another choice. So I chose love. I woke up one day and chose to see her for who she was. She was not my husband’s ex-wife. She was my children’s mother. This opened up a special tenderness in me. The love I chose was not for my husband, or even for her, but for my children. I came from a fractured home that was the direct result of a divorce. I did not want my kids to experience the hatred and the rage. I wanted to heal the fracture with this love and create something new. So I made a choice. I chose to honor the love these two souls shared. I saw the mess. I saw the beauty. I honored it all. This recognition and acceptance is the reason why I have the relationship I have with my children to this day. My willingness to accept the love their mother and father shared is the reason why they call me Mom.

I became a mother the day I got married. I continued on my journey of motherhood and gave birth to our daughter almost 13 years ago. I was so excited to bring our daughter into the world. Creating life with a man who already had children brought on a quiet anxiety. I was so excited about this new life growing inside me. I knew we had to tread lightly when we told the kids our news. Tenderness beckoned once again. It called out to me loudly. Their hearts. Their feelings were at the forefront of my mind. Would they feel like they were being replaced? Did they fear that their dad would love this baby more? Would they accept this soul as their sibling? Would I love them the same? Would my love for them change? These thoughts plagued my mind for months. Just as tenderness called out to me, love screamed louder. “Just be. Just allow.” Throughout my pregnancy I included them in whatever they felt comfortable with. They were there the day I gave birth to our daughter, their sister. I will never forget it as long as I live. I was met with the same tenderness that called to me months prior. They loved her. They accepted her. And then something happened that I could never anticipate. As I snuggled my newborn baby I looked at each of them; taking in each of their features, mannerisms, and facial expressions. My love for them did change. It changed drastically. The love I felt for them was visceral. It was primal. I loved them as if I gave birth to them. They weren’t my step-kids; they were my kids. If you find yourself faced with the honor of loving someone else’s children, love them as if they were you own. Fiercely and unapologetically. If you have your own children do NOT show favor. Do NOT make them feel like it’s your “biological” children against them. Meet them where they are at. Remember that just as they didn’t chose to gain a new parent they did not chose to gain another sibling. If you heed any of my advice it this right here. They are children. They are equals. Biological or not. Almost 15 years later I can tell that this thought process is gold. Love these souls as your own. Let them know their value. Tell them what you love most about them. I love each of them for who they are. Each one of them are so unique and vastly different. Their differences and unique nature are what make our family whole. Love them. Honor them. Remember always that they were there before you.

Another really important piece of advice is to enjoy your new family. Make memories with them. While making new memories with them make sure that you honor the memories from their childhood before you. Show an interest in their past. Keep pictures of their mother and father in your home. You won’t miss out on creating new memories with them by allowing them to reminisce on old ones. My kids are adults now and constantly remind me of all the fun times we have had together. It’s so special!

Lastly, and most importantly, be gentle on yourself. These souls do not come with a manual and you will screw up. Count on it. You will make mistakes. A lot of them. Like I stated earlier, wisdom does not come with ease. Own these blunders. Forgive yourself. You are doing the very best you can. Being a bonus Mom is not easy. It can be utterly heartbreaking. Apologize when you mess up. My kids and I have gotten into our fair share of fights over the years. I hate that part. But when they call me for advice or because they drink too many mountain dews and have a full blown bladder infection (I won’t name said child, but they know who they are) and need natural remedies I am reminded that all the energy, love and tears I have invested makes this all WORTH it. I can’t count how many times over the years they have called me to be the voice of reason between their Mom and Dad. They need me. My place in their life is valued. And so is yours.

I have loved these souls for almost 15 years. It feels like a lifetime. Merriam Webster got it all wrong. I may not be their natural mother, but loving them is innate. It’s easy. Even when it’s toilsome. I hope my journey has helped you if you too are a bonus parent. Every family is different. These are the truths I have learned along the way. It hasn’t always been easy, but it has been worth it. These souls are mine and after all these years I know for certain that they love me unconditionally. The step-parenting journey is not the term I would use to describe who I am to my kids. I am their parent. I am their Mom. I am theirs. And becoming theirs has been one of the greatest joys of my life.

https://www.instagram.com/mandylanphere/

becoming acquainted with solitude

A few weeks ago I shared with you all that I have been working my spiritual ass off to heal parts of myself that have been closed off and blocked for a long time. About a year ago my anxiety started to rear its very ugly (and uncomfortable) head again. I have struggled with anxiety at various times in my life. Here’s the thing about anxiety. It’s an alarm. It’s my body’s way of getting my attention. To wake me up. Instead of hitting “snooze” on this inevitable alarm system I decided to get some help to dismantle these wounds. A couple of weeks ago I was doing “the work” and I found myself in a giant wound. My self expression. Or lack there of. At some point in my life I stopped allowing myself to dream up beautiful and extravagant things for myself. I can recognize when the original wound was created. I was a little girl. This wound has festered and carried over into my life as a woman, a wife and a mom. I have lost myself in my family and all the responsibilities that come with those titles. And that’s the thing, wife? Mom? Those are just titles. They are not who I am. Anyways, that was a very long winded way for me to express to you that I wanted to share a journal entry I wrote yesterday. Writing has always been something that I love. LOVE. My husband encouraged me to share it and so I am going to take a leap and do just that. I am not sharing this for accolades of any sort. It’s merely me jumping in feet first and sharing a piece of myself that has been closed for a very long time. And if you are touched or moved by my words along the way than that will make the vulnerability worthwhile. That’s another passion of mine. Helping others. Truly seeing others. Letting them know they aren’t alone. So here goes.

Saturday, July 25, 2020

“There are voices which we hear in solitude, but they grow faint and inaudible as we enter the world.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Solitude has been something that I have avoided for a long time. I have always felt afraid of solitude. The echoes of past wounds are deafening. Any time I have been able to catch a few moments of solitude that’s when it happens. An orchestra sounds. All my thoughts, fears and dreams would, and do come blaring in like a symphony. A symphony of chaos. It’s overwhelming and I have avoided it all costs. And for far too long. I am choosing today, here and now to find moments of solitude for myself. Maybe that’s been the problem all along. I’m not spending enough time in quiet contemplation. Maybe, just maybe these overwhelming thoughts and emotions need their own voice and they are taking any opportunity they can to get my attention. They are competing with each other because they can never get a word in edgewise because I am the one who has shut down. I am the one who is refusing to spend a moment in quiet solitude. Maybe if I am deliberate about this time of solitude I will create a stage of sorts for each and every thought that enters my mind. Maybe if I get lost and allow I will find myself and in turn create my own orchestra. My own unique symphony. A symphony of wonder and amazement. Maybe the chorus will heal me. Maybe the solitude will help me piece myself back together again. The music of my own creation will be what fuels me and guides me back to myself and my dreams. And even my fears. Because given the space to just be I will realize that there is room for it all. And what a lovely sound that will be. Solitude will be the place where, for the first time I will hear it all. And I will sing along  to my own song. The song of my soul and the longings that reside within. There in lies the magic that the quiet offers. Herein lies the truth, I have nothing to fear and I never did.

 

 

to the mom with the screaming child at target

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in the tantrum trenches

This afternoon I had to make a Target run for toilet paper and other essentials. As I was leaving I hit up the Starbucks to grab a much needed caffeine fix. In front of me was a beautiful mother with 2 children. One looked to be around 7 and the other was a baby. Before I continue I must note this woman’s stoic bravery for stepping into this establishment with children. With baby on hip she reached down under her cart to retrieve her purse. I swear this was some crazy acrobatic move that you would only see at the circus. I was impressed. I ordered my coffee and moved out of line to wait for my elixir. While we waited she received a phone call from someone who I can only assume was her husband. As she attempted to have an adult conversation with the individual on the other end her children started to acting up. I overheard her quickly say, “Nevermind, bye.” She received her drink and I could hear her baby wailing off in the distance as they continued on with their day. The woman who was behind me in line looked at me and nervously laughed, “That was awkward wasn’t it?” I smiled and said, “Oh not at all. I am a mom and I totally get it.” I bid the woman farewell and as I left this mother stayed in my memory and on my heart all afternoon. I decided to write her (and all mother warriors) a letter….

To the woman with the screaming child at Target,

You have been on my heart. I too am a mother and the last time I took my daughter into Target with me she smacked a stranger’s ass. So I want you to know that I was encouraged by your presence this afternoon. I now know that I am not the only mom who walks into that store full of hope and leave feeling completely defeated. Sometimes as a mom I feel like people don’t really see me. They see my unruly child and swiftly make judgments about my parenting choices. Of course that is only my perception. So I want you to know that I see you. I see you dressed in your yoga pants and no make up and I want you to know that you are beautiful. I see you pick up your Venti Egg Nog frappuccino and I know from experience that you ordered that size because you have children that will undoubtedly ask for some and you will probably only enjoy 5 sips of it. I hear you on the phone with your husband and as quick as you answer you have to hang up. You are such a great wife for taking the call because you know your children are not the only humans that need you. I see you lovingly interact with your busy little girl while you quietly soothe your crying baby. You have the patience of Job. I watch as you hurry off all the while attempting not to make eye contact with another human as you pass by. I want you to know that I have been where you are. I have made that walk of shame too many times to count. You need to know that I do not judge you. I am in awe of you. You taught me a valuable lesson today. You reminded me that we are all doing the best we can and we all need a kind face smiling back at us. Just maybe we will look into that strangers eyes and see our beautiful reflection mirrored back to us. You reminded me that as moms we are our worst critic. We need to stop that. We are raising our children to be functioning humans in this world and that is no easy task. As I watched you with your babies I witnessed the pure grace and messiness that is motherhood. You also reminded me that there should never be any shame in being a mom and God forbid shame when our children (and they will) act like an untamed beast in public. Their breakdowns have nothing to do with how well we are parenting. In fact, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that their fits are proof of our unconditional love for them. They know that no matter how poorly they act we will get frustrated, but their is no tantrum that will change the love we have for them. I also am frightened of children who never throw fits in public from time to time. I end this letter thanking you. Thank you for reminding me of my humanness and that my struggles as a mom have no bearing on my capabilities. You are amazing and your children are so blessed that you are their mama. You are strong and brave. You are nurturing and patient. I saw myself in you today and what I saw was an extraordinary soul. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Our silent interaction today was anything but awkward. It was enlightening and empowering. Just thought you needed to know that.

Signed,

a fellow mom who has been known to hide in the dressing room at Target