A Healthy Stepmother . . . on Getting Up in the Morning 

A Healthy Stepmother . . . on Getting Up in the Morning 

I admit, I’ve been distracted. By an endless campaign season here in the United States. By the election itself. By the mood and conflict surrounding the result.

Honestly, I’ve felt I was living inside a stepfamily run amok.

We know those families. We stepmothers are more than familiar with that conflict. With that grief. With the living among people who have lost so much and don’t know how to sort out moving forward. With the living among those who use their anger as daggers to slash and cut and harm anyone within arm’s reach, including their own children.

It’s as if a blindness descends and overtakes even these sane and caring people. As if the larger human instinct to survive, which has historically meant working together in groups to find food and shelter and fend off danger, has been lost. As if when we walked through the forest we left it behind on one of our rest stops. 

I’m rattled because I’m working on a book of tales for stepmothers, with some fables of how we might shift the focus in the future, to more resilient stepfamilies. To stepfamilies that can absorb loss, support one another in grief, and create enough stability for joy to creep in once in a while. I’m rattled because I wonder what use my book might be.

I’m rattled because not only do I see signs of a crumbling resolve in stepmothers and stepfamilies around me, but I see all the signs of a crumbling integrity and honor in the larger society outside my home.

It worries me. This blatant disregard for the consequences of actions. This willingness to burn the house down, often seen in a stepfamily when one of the divorcing parents takes the other parent to court over and over and over again, never letting either household settle into a calm place for the children. The children live with constant stress and it shows.

So, when I think of sitting down to write to you and share my thoughts, when I think of what it means to be a stepmother in 2017, I struggle to come up with something meaningful.

Because every morning when you wake up, you are being asked to show up again. How will you do that? How can you get up day after day in the face of yelling and accusations and lies about you, and still show up, really be present to the situation?

How can you get up in the morning and go about your day without resorting to the same anger and disrespect you see all around you? How do you keep one little shred of yourself to yourself, selfishly guarding it so no one strips you from knowing who you are? How do you build a treasure chest that fuels you during long and sustained sieges on your decency and your partner’s decency?

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I’m not sure I know any more. I have lots of ideas here and here in my blog archives. I use them every day. They help. And some days they don’t. Some days I want to get in the stepmother chat room or Facebook group and rant. I don’t. I know it won’t help me in the long-term. I know it will simply fuel my anger and disappointment.

No, this feeling of swimming against the tide is bigger than my family or your family. This societal chaos feels like trying to swim and keep your head above water and someone pushes you back under. Every time. This consistently bumping into a dead-end feels like setting about making friends with a family member only to have someone else’s divisive words or actions drive you apart. This is having your every motive scrutinized and proclaimed a lie.

It’s hard to manage in an environment like that. Reading the newspaper each morning feels like entering those Facebook groups and learning of the latest lie told to the children so they don’t want to come to their dad’s house. The purposeful withholding of information feels like learning about your stepchild’s soccer game a couple of hours before the event.

I don’t know how we stop it. I keep trying to remain calm. I keep breathing. I keep telling myself, at the minimum, do no harm. Don’t make it worse. But that only works sometimes.

Sometimes I have to let myself sit in the pain and stop trying to make it go away. I’m strong enough. I’ve established that.

I’ll be here long after the fighting stops. I’ll be here long after the stories are told and fade away. I’m still me. You are still you.

A Healthy Stepmother . . . Amidst the Chaos

Is it just me or is there chaos in nearly every direction. Is it harder and harder to find peace, let alone peace and quiet? Is it now just as noisy inside your home as it is outside your home? Which came first, the inside noise or the outside noise? Though, maybe it doesn’t matter.

The cumulative effect of the busy-ness and rushing and roaring takes a toll. It wears you down and begins to lay heavy on your actions and your heart.

All of which means you work harder to keep your center and find a sense of things being right with the world.

Now, what helps us feel right with the world is different for everyone. For some, its religion. For others, running or cycling or taking part in sports. For others, it’s being in nature. Still others get lost in a book. And there can be combinations of all those.

The thing is, that toll it’s taking on you, it can cause you to snap at your loved one. It can cause you to doubt yourself. It can cause you to be less tolerant of the children you help support.

There aren’t new words of wisdom, I didn’t just wake up and find a new solution and rush to share it with you. If there was a solution, it wouldn’t be called our human condition.

But, I did listen to a podcast this week that seemed so very relevant. Rebecca Tippett, in her On Being podcast, interviewed Pauline Boss on The Myth of Closure. What ensued was a wonderful conversation about grief and unresolved loss and complicated loss. Divorce is one of the life events that qualifies to be labeled complicated loss.

You’re nodding your head. You know. Yeah, I know you do.

May you find space for some peace, and for some peace and quiet, amidst this complicated and chaotic life.

A Healthy Stepmother . . . Mother’s Day and Ho-Hum

A Healthy Stepmother . . . Mother’s Day and Ho-Hum

Maybe you’ve been feeling hurt and are counting the ways you’re not included in Sunday’s, May 10, Mother’s Day celebrations. Maybe you’ve decided to let the crust around your heart remain there for a while, since crusts offer protection by keeping you in and others out. Or, maybe the kids in your life freely and openly bring you offerings and talismans that show love and connection to you.

What if we agreed there isn’t a right answer for the demonstration of relationship, feelings, or connection?

What if we agreed those demonstrations will shift and change over time and the sellers and pushers of the trifecta of cards-flowers-chocolates won’t determine whether a stepchild, or the parent who nudges or doesn’t nudge the child, has done the right thing?

And, what if we agreed that sometimes it’s not safe for a child to share her or his feelings for you because that child’s every move is scrutinized by another member of the family, whether mother or sibling?

I’ve seen all versions.

A friend’s now-grown stepson has showered her with cards, simply but consistently, from the first year he moved in with his father and stepmother. His mother lived more than three hours away.

Another stepmother was a custodial stepmother when her stepchildren were younger and the two girls freely expressed their feelings. They moved back in with their mother for their teen years when their mother’s life became stable enough. By the time the girls began puberty, the stepmother had a child of her own. Thus began a number of angst-laden years with little expression other than anger and fear.

And, in many stepfamilies, there wasn’t and isn’t an expression of tenderness toward the stepmother.

A Healthy Stepmother . . . Mother's Day and Ho-Hum

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Regardless of which stepfamily you live in, the way others express their feelings is not a reflection on you as a stepmother.

I’d like you to consider the idea of living in the ho-hum. The way I’ve heard it said, 5% of life is sheer agony, 5% is sheer ecstasy, and 90% of life is ho-hum.

According to the tradition, we need to learn to live inside the ho-hum. Long-time readers of this blog will recognize this is the living in the gray zone, or the neutral place.

I might argue the percentages for stepmothers are a little steeper. Maybe it’s 20-25% sheer agony. 5% sheer ecstasy, 70% ho-hum. You can see pretty quickly why a stepmother feels beleaguered and succumbs to depression and anxiety at rates higher than women in other relationships. (Wednesday Martin, Stepmonster)

Learning to live in the ho-hum. Learning to live without the constant search for the perfect moment. Learning to live knowing the incredibly painful will soon pass, because it is not a permanent condition even though it feels like one. Learning to let expressions of feelings be fluid and unprescribed, sometimes close, sometimes more distant.

Learning to sit inside your own skin, knowing you are enough, doing enough, being enough, right now, in this moment.

Happy You Day . . . wherever you may be.

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