Surviving Divorce from Your Step Child
Beginning a comfortable life and becoming an instant mother to my step- son, I fell in love twice. We traversed the world of dating at first for several years, allowing myself the opportunity to learn to be a step-dater, so to speak. Both of them had to learn who I was and feel me out.
I was unaware as to the impact I would have.
We would travel to a neighboring city, about an hour away to take my Boyfriends son to visit his Mother for a weekend. That went on for some time, until after our Engagement. The inevitable discussion of “rights’ would come up.
Everything changed after we were married. Having been an only child, and having lived with his Parents for so many years after his son was born, my new Husband now had to decide how the family mechanics would work. My In-Laws were wonderful, but their grasp on their only grandchild was a sight to see. I never knew the definition of “kid gloves” until I was thrust into the role of instant motherhood.
I was learning to Mother as I went. It was a difficult journey, but I was grateful for the opportunity. When my Husband had asked my Parents for my hand in Marriage, my Mother looked me straight in the eye and said, “You are not just marrying this man, but also taking on a new son. Are you ready for this Commitment?” I never looked back. I was determined.
My step-son was kind and yes even a little spoiled, and I was setting myself up to be the evil step-mother, after all, I was the one setting limitations and boundaries. He actually had to finish his homework before watching television and playing video games. He realized he wasn’t living with his Grandparents anymore. The game was on. There had been several instances where he was upset at me, and demanded to go back with his grandparents. He called them when I wasn’t watching and they immediately came over. It was a fiasco. I was upset, they were yelling and I gave up. He left with them.
I couldn’t handle my emotions and stand my ground, how in the world was I ever going to handle a step-son? I was scared and very worried. I didn’t dare search for answers or help from my Mother. I didn’t want her to see I had failed. I cried like a baby and demanded help from my husband. He was a pushover. He didn’t care as long as his son was happy. Forget how I felt.
Time passed and he came home and we started over. I learned more patience and pushed myself to be more involved in his life. I learned who his good friends were and what he liked to do. I learned to play video games and if I saw him doing something good, even if it was small, I rewarded him with freedom. He was starting to get the hang of it. As smart as he was, he still won me over. I was hooked.
We were a pair. We went everywhere together. He taught me about bikes and cartoons, I taught him about books, history, art and the love of reading. We often spent time together at the Library. There was one instance where we went our separate ways and he was reading a magazine about games and I was off checking e-mail. Someone that knew him walked up to him, I was within earshot, and asked him how his Mother was. He answered “She’s fine. She’s over there checking her e-mail”. Imagine my surprise and happiness. I felt like I had known him all my life. He was my son and I loved him as such. Every time I looked at him, I smiled.
We were a family for almost seven years. Infidelity tore at us one day. I never knew the signs were there, but when I found out about my husbands betrayal, the first thing on my mind was my son. What would he say? What would he think? I had no idea how to handle my emotions. How was I going to handle his?
Pain becomes your worst enemy. I was heartbroken. I actually felt physical pain in my heart. I was sick to my stomach.
My Mother became my rock and prayer stabilized my fear. And one day, he was gone. He was taken away from me. He was kept from me, as if he were a pet without a mother or a home. I wondered if it was actually that easy to make someone forget the people they knew and loved. My husband was on a mission to leave me and start over. Of course there were the questions and of a betrayed woman, but mostly, I wondered about my son. Was he even actually my son anymore? Did he ask about me? Did he wonder where I was?
I moved onto, a new job and a new life. I continued living in our home, as he had moved in with the other woman. Loneliness filled my days. I was an emotional robot. Calls to my husband were few and quick. My questions about my son were unanswered. Months passed, and I realized, there was no turning back. I had to move on, but how? How do I forget a son that was never truly mine to being with? I felt betrayed twice. I was made to believe that marriage was forever and I would be a Mom forever. I was determined to never forget him. Birthdays, Holidays, I sent gifts and cards to his Grandparents. They were never answered.
I was resigned. I was now officially divorced from him. He was gone forever. I would spend evenings sitting in his now darkened bedroom, looking out the window. I was utterly alone now. No television noise, no video games blaring in his room, no laughing or smiling. No loud requests for grilled cheese sandwiches or biscuits for breakfast before school. I missed him so much it hurt. I missed him more than my husband. I searched for his clothes, just to smell him.
And one day, the days were clearer and brighter and better. Time healed. I knew he was okay and he was in good hands.
Suddenly, years later, I received an e-mail. He had found me online. Everything he could not say at ten years of age, he was saying now at seventeen. No he hadn’t forgotten me. Yes, he’d received all my gifts. No, he didn’t blame me and yes, he still loved me. He remembered everything I showed him and taught him, and it was because of me that he was going on to College.
I was so happy, I couldn’t contain myself. I wasn’t forgotten after all. His Dad’s new girlfriend had tried to make him forget me, but my picture was always in his room, he said. Eventually, her jealousy over my picture pushed her out. His Dad was on the hunt again, he said jokingly.
I was the positive in his negative days. He thought I had class because of the way I had handled myself. I had lost the fight and moved on.
I knew in my heart that my impact on this child would be with him forever. There was no doubt, that whatever negative thought had crossed my mind, we had always carried me in his heart and mind, and that was good enough for me.
I was fulfilled that I done the best that I could and I was remembered as such. I was the hero and I he was okay.
Today, there are no children. I am unable to bear, but I was a Mother at one time and in my heart, I still am.
