My mum died very suddenly and unexpectedly when I was ten. My dad remarried with obscene haste (or so it felt, to us), a woman who had been his childhood sweetheart, who had 4 kids, was widowed and had written a speculative letter to the last address she had for him. A couple of months before mum died, my grandad died and clearing out his house, my mum had found this "Are you single?" begging letter and instead of burning it, or binning it, unaccountably put it in her handbag. After she died, dad took it as A Sign.
Turned out my stepmother was mentally ill although we didn't think of it in those terms, in those days but her daughters and I, meeting and talking as adults, agreed that she was. They were fed and if hungry - they had insurance money from their dad's dying. So went out and bought what they feeded - food and clothes-wise. I had nothing. Aged 19, an average height, I weight 6 1/2 stone. My stepmother cooked one meal for us and another for dad. When we told him, he refused to believe us. My brother left home because he couldn't stand my stepmother and he had bought me food, and looked after me as much as he could. So then I was alone.
We were from totally different backgrounds - socially, culturally - everything. A house ful of little girls grieving for dead parents under the control of a terrifying, mentally ill woman. The stepsisters loathed me and I loathed them (as adults we became friends).
My stepmother realised that she'd have to discredit me before I told my dad what was going on, so she had me sent to a child psychiatrist. And then went on and on about me being mad. Her phrase was "nutty-looney". I was just a sad, grieving little kid. I was a tomboy and her girls were girly. I had tried to fit in with them and her but just before they married, the stepsister my age told me, when the adults weren't around, that her mum had told her I would be a 'bad influence' and to keep her distance. I was so upset I ran off and that was the start of me being branded nuts.
I had a brilliant teacher who got me out of assemblies and would sit and talk with me. Friends' mums also rallied round, feeding me, etc. I loved my dad very much but his wife was his blind spot - he refused to believe anything anyone said about her. My aunty wanted to take me, but she didn't know how to approach it - I found out years later. And I started being bullied at school because I had greasy hair and was dirty (stepmother would only let us bath once a week and would measure the depth of the water). I was given what I was told was my Child's Allowance for all my clothes and shoes - but I later found out she kept most of it as I was only given a quid a week. That was for everything I wore and all my shoes for 7 years.
My dad wasn't allowed to sub me money as "it isn't fair on the girls". But The Girls had thousands in the bank. Then she hit on the idea of sabotaging me at school by starting rows when I had exams. The GP called the social workers in but they wrote her to say they were coming. The house - was filthy but she spent a week tidying and polishign and when they walked in, there were cakes in the oven and a gleaming palace. I was made out to be a liar.
I have had whole periods of my adult life where I thought I had put it behind me. And whole periods when it has resurfaced. I was wildly insecure as a young woman - had loads of male attention but thought I was ugly and too thin and looked like a boy and all that stuff my stepmother used to say. I think it was at the root of a lot of my problems, even to this day.
In those days blended families were freakishy rare. Now they are the norm. I was mercilessly bullied at school because of how I looked (basically for being poor - which was stupid as my dad had a good job, a huge house, some land...) and because my stepmother did stuff like send me to school with filthy Pyrex dishes for cookery. By the time I was 16 she made me do all my own laundry because she said I would whine if she shrank something. But she wouldn't let me use the washing machine. So I did 4 A Levels whilst doing all my own laundry by hand, making most of my meals, and coping with my dad and brother's fractured relationship and my stepsisters loathing me and my stepmother's constant neglect/abuse.
I never told my kids til they were teenagers. Sometimes when my brother or his in laws - who knew me at that time - talk about me in my raggy clothes, and some of the things they witnessed, my kids can't really take it in as I have always come across to them as a force of nature. I took what happened and decided to work my way to university and never go back. So even at the time I turned it into something positive. But it damaged me in ways I still find difficult to understand. Having a step parent was even worse than losing a parent. But I guess not every widowed/separated parent marries someone with 'issues'.