"You are not my mother!" ? My life as a bad stepmother
You had not thought about it that way. About these kids. His children. The model. Just did it. Made what you felt like. And you felt yourself: in love. And you were already stepmother.
Sometime ? since you were right in it? did you think about it? And you know today: who as a childless woman loves a man with children, does no favor. ? You can not say that ?, you hear the voices murmuring. You can not, that's why there is no name here.
The wars of a separation
And since it is understandable to you as a non-mother stepmother, but terrible that it's always about the kids, it does not do that here. This is just about you. This is about the hole you are shoveling because you love a man with children. It can be quite comfortable, this hole. Until the walls collapse. And they will. Then you lie there, under all the rubble of a (lived) life that has nothing to do with you. In the midst of all the wars of separation that continue to sway and cut you slowly. The wars between father and child, child and child, father and mother, mother and child. Between divorce settlement agreements, maintenance disputes and puberty. And alone. Only an extra on the battlefield, which is a broken family. Because: You are not family. Family are the others.
Watching is hard
Even the ex-wife, against whom you will never say anything to the children. But: She educates the children who also live in your house. You do not like education? What do you do? Do not educate. Are not your children. So you bear it, watch how they become. And you know: they will never be yours. Watching is hard. So at some point there are rules in your house. And you are the evil stepmother.
The children do not care if you are there or not
Of course you do not sing a swan? Patchwork ?. Because take, you're not kidding, would you keep the man again? with his children. But you would have liked to know a few things in advance: That you will never love your children the way everyone always says you love children. Does not work, are not yours. Nobody told you. Otherwise you would have been spared thinking about what you are for a bad person because you can not handle that thing with unconditional love. That his kids do not care if you're there. That they always come because of him, never because of you. That makes you very happy for him. Real and honest. But it breaks your own heart, which shows its ugly side and screams: I want too! That you sometimes have to cry like a small, stubborn child, because you long for a love that these children can not give: the love of a mother. That you'll be ashamed to think that way. That the children will like you, but always something is missing. That stupid, invisible bond called family. That you do and do and invest? your time, your feelings, your money? and get nothing. "So are parents?", Hiss the voices that your moaning does not want to hear. Might be. But, let's be clear: Parents need. You must not. But do it anyway.
You feel all that, but do not say it. You can not. Should?
