I'm a step-dad. Well, we're not married but both kids started using the term (or Danish equivalent, papfar) on their own a few months after I moved in.
The girls are 3 & 8. they were 2 & 6 when I moved in Autumn 2016. I'd talked so much my girlfriend about the right boundries, respecting their dad and not stepping on his toes, basically being "there for them and a nice addition to the household" than "parent."
It didn't work that way. Not when we have them twelve days out of 14, and their dad brings them home as early as he can get away with on the Sunday. He was pretty absent before they split about a year before I met them, and the girls quickly loved the whole 'family of four' experience.
Essentially for all our plans of taking it slowly, the girls (mostly the then 6yr old) pushed it faster themselves. The then 2 year old just thought it was awesome someone could entertain her sister so she got more 1-on-1 time with mum!
They're my life, unavoidably. They're there when I wake up (sometimes literally right in my face shaking me - they know I'm a better morning person than their mum!) They're there after work and they certainly don't both sleep right through the night most of the time. So I parent. I help with homework, I do my share of delivering them to kindergarten/school and collecting them. I cook for them, I listen to the 8yr old's increasingly emotionally complex thoughts and talk them through, I play whatever make believe game the 3yr old comes up with next. My partner and I both work full time, and from when I get up until the girls go to bed between 7 and 8 I don't sit down for more than a few minutes (work aside.) What else would I do?
And that's all fine. That's the life I jumped into. It's harder work than I expected but a blessing as well with the bond I now have with the girls. And it's a hell of a bond, and the best thing that ever happened to me.
And my relationship with my partner is fantastic, but every couple of months there'd be a comment like "How would cope with your own kids?" An example - At Easter their dad was going to take them for a couple of days and then his mum was after that. They both cancelled. I was a little disappointed that we wouldn't get the little break together. She asked how I'd manage if I had children of my own (in a slightly irritated way.)
A similar thing came up at the beginning of the week, and we argued - we don't do that much. I really had to gather all the thoughts I have about it the difficulties of step parenting and write them in a text - because I'd never really put them all together before - just felt the pressure and the stress of them.
This isn't word for word but what I wrote was along the lines of this:
I'd find it easier if they were my own children.
I wouldn't spend every day wondering if the amount I love them is too much.
I wouldn't stress constantly about doing all I did without it stepping on their dad's toes.
I wouldn't torment myself picking apart every time I've had to tell them off, wondering if I was fair enough, or if deep down I even really had the right too.
I wouldn't hate myself for every mistake I make 'parenting' because I feel like I've been honoured and trusted with something so precious, that it's just not OK to screw it up.
I wouldn't strive so hard to give the right impression to every parent and teacher we see when I drop them off, because I need them to know that I add value to the girl's lives. I'd probably relax and be myself more.
I wouldn't dread something happening to my partner in a way I could never have understood before, because the girls could just vanish from my life in a moment if she wasn't there.
I wouldn't get a little bit sad every time I get the reminders that on any official level I'm literally nothing to them. The little sign above the 3yr old's coat locker at kindergarten with mummy, daddy and sister's name on it.
I wouldn't live with the feeling that everyone who knew them as a couple before is evaluating me in comparison, because many of them care about these children.
I wouldn't have all this playing on my mind, all the time. I'm not saying being a real parent is easy, just that there's a host of additional challenges taking on the responsibility of one without being the real deal.
And she admitted she'd never thought about any of that. I'd seemed to just come in, adjust, and crack on with it. If I'd made mistakes she'd never felt like I had no right to make mistakes - she understood. I don't think I've ever heard her so apologetic.