So I am a stepmother. Apologies for the AA meeting style introduction but that is how society labels me. I am not a rare occurrence, in fact us step mummies are quite the opposite. They believe that 1 in 3 families in the UK have a step element to them, so there are a lot of us about.
I am not a wicked stepmother, contrary to the much believed urban myth. There is no hint of Cruella DeVille, Miss Trunchball or other child hating character about me. I am not getting into the arguments that people throw my way on this portrayal, it’s just a waste of my tight 900 word limit. What I will say is this, personally I am yet to meet a stepmother who hates her stepchildren or does not care for them in a suitable manner. Yes there may be a few out there, hiding children’s toys, burning family photos and generally looking a little bitter, but on the whole they are very caring women who embrace and enjoy the role they play.
One of the most annoying things I am asked is if I want children of my own. I will be honest, I am childless and have chosen to remain that way. But this is an entirely separate thing to marrying and embracing a life with a lovely man and his children. It does not affect my ability to be a good stepmum just because I choose to not have one of my own. If anything it allows me to do my bit even better. I can have tunnel vision with no distractions. It does however raise a valid point that needs to be acknowledged. Being a stepmother is nothing like being a biological mother and vice versa. You cannot compare women in either role as each is so different.
So what is it like to walk in my shoes? Well for a start it’s never dull, I own 57 pairs of fairly outrageous shoes so rarely, like a life with children, are two consecutive days the same. Like my Carrie Bradshaw inspired, shoe loving life, it’s never dull, often colourful and that’s just the language muttered by me under my breath. On occasion like you do for fashion you have to suffer a little. Thankfully though, like all fashionable shoe wearing induced blisters, the marks quickly fade.
So let’s get down to the reality of the kind of person you have to be. A realist is a good start. You have to be under no illusions of movie like happy endings and non-stop love, fulfilment and enjoyment on your behalf. If biological parents do not experience this, you cannot either.
You have to be many things to different people simultaneously, and be able to take the rough with the smooth. This is all whilst importantly, being kind to yourself. The latter sounds selfish, and maybe it is, but on occasion it’s a necessity.
Having to be so many things simultaneously can lead you to do one of two things. You can don a suitable cape, and pretend to be a superhero, only super powers seem the solution some days to get it all done whilst still smiling. The alternative, become an octopus. Eight arms will definitely get the job done. Right? The latter, slimy, tentacle covered, deep sea bound animal has little or no sex appeal nor do they wear shoes, mores the pity! So I personally like to channel my inner ‘Wonder Woman’. She was sexy, successful, always got the job done and had fabulous red boots. What’s not to love?
Wonder woman outfit on, you can become anything from a peace keeper, to mass organiser. An on the fence spectator, with the inner calm of the Dalai Lama, to a bravery medal winning soldier, surviving many intense battles and on-going wars. Chef, award winning cake baker, chauffeur and all round domestic goddess. Excluding hoovering of course, as I have no idea where the hoover is kept. All these skills and more are required, whilst having skin as thick and durable as a very old crocodile. You see you have to learn to not let anything directed your way penetrate the skin. Make like Gandhi, have a sense of humour and take nothing to heart.
Now everything I say is personal to me. Like getting the right shade of make up for your skin, it can take a few attempts to get your approach to ‘stepfamily’ life right. We have all had moments of an orange pallor from going a shade too dark, so step parenting mistakes are inevitable. As long as you live it, love it, and learn from it you cannot go wrong.
I could write all day about all the things that go on. But in a nutshell it’s simple. It works for me. I love it. I have stayed the same person I was at the beginning, an independently minded, shoe lover. But I have equally embraced my new job with a sense of realism. I no longer have Hollywood movie style expectations as I did in the early days. After all I bear no resemblance to Julia Roberts, nor does life pan out as it does in the movie ‘Stepmom’. Emotions run too deep, and well no real life situation ever needs a life threatening illness, no matter how bad things can get.
So in short, keep smiling and stay happy, it’s all worth it.