My Starring Role as the Wicked Stepmother

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I have never thought of myself as a bad person. Sure, I’m not perfect, but a villain? Nah. I’m a stepmother. 

I didn’t wake up one morning and decide to don my evil cape, paint my eyebrows into high, thin arches and create havoc in my home. But somewhere along the way, the role as stepmother made me the bad guy of my own story. And it really surprised me when I got to that chapter.

At least Disney was obvious in their stereotypes of “the evil stepmother”: a tall, slender lady of nobility with highly-arched brows, a hooked nose, and cold-as-ice eyes. And the unfair treatment, the obvious favoritism towards her own children, the cruelty – it all matched her villainous appearance.

But did you also know that evil stepmoms can look like slightly pudgy people-pleasers who tend to struggle with generalized anxiety? Did you know that some of us evil stepmoms can have the best intentions and think we are doing everything right, only to still find ourselves in this depraved role of the fairytale?

When my own family’s story arc moved from almost achieving Brady Bunch status to hitting Arrested Development’s level of dysfunctionality, I am embarrassed to say I didn’t really see it coming – that’s how naive and hopeful I was. In the thick of the rising action and climax, you could Google every negative emotion and see my image in various stages of ugly crying. Now that a thin scar covers all of our wounds, I’m trying to make some sense of the conflict, to pave some kind of path towards a better denouement. Along the way, I have found a few truths about stepmoms that can actually be helpful to me and my other wicked accomplices.

I’m not the only unintentionally wicked stepmother out there.
When a blended family is created, there will always be bumps – even in the best of situations. Fathers can, and very often do, revert to a permissive parenting style (high warmth/low control), either out of guilt or desperation. This makes any stepmom look like a rigid drill sergeant when deflecting chandelier-swinging antics. And while we bonus moms are trying to maintain a decent amount of authoritative parenting (high warmth/high control), the kids many times feel like they have to make comparisons and assert their loyalties to their mother. It’s comforting to know this is an actual “thing” with other blended families – that my family is not just an anomaly.

It’s ok to feel hurt. It’s ok to have feelings in general.
When scouring the web and confiding in friends, over and over again I read and heard the same theme: the kids are hurting so much and need love. And this is 100% absolutely correct. However, what was incorrect was my own personal takeaway that, because they were hurting, I wasn’t allowed to be hurt either. Y’all, some nasty things have been said and thrown my way. Soul-killing things. If you’re in the same boat I was in, it’s ok to be hurt and angry. Just make sure you’re screaming your rage and hurt out in a remote place. Preferably in a car with your windows rolled up. And not at your husband or stepkids.

I will probably be marginalized by my family and society.
Many husbands, bless their hearts, are all too willing to let stepmoms take on the role of caretaker, homemaker, nurturer, etc. Basically the role of, you know, the mom. Only, we aren’t the mom. These blurred lines of a stepmother’s role can cause anxiety of what our place in the family is – anxiety that we can’t talk about because we don’t want people to think we are unloving towards our kids, thus making us the wicked stepmother. In a sense, we are expected to endure a type of unrequited love that few can understand unless in the same role.

Get boundaries, not bitterness.
No family has the exact same rules or morals, no matter how compatible the households seem. Because of this fact, it should be obvious that spouses need to be on the same page of proper boundaries and expectations. Except I wasn’t on the same page with my spouse, and our rules and expectations weren’t clear. Imagine the resentment stewing in me when I felt like I couldn’t speak up anytime a rule was broken with no consequences or expectations weren’t met. In hindsight, if I had made it clear what was expected without apology, even if it was the unpopular plot twist.

This too shall pass.
When emotions are high, everything seems extreme and finite. With time, however, hopefully things can be repaired, relationships can be forged. We are still in the middle of our story. I don’t have an idea of the ending yet, but if I could write my dialogue, it might go something like this: I love you. I’m angry and hurt and confused, and I know you are, too. For that, I am very sorry. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you and pray for great things for you. I hope someday you’ll love me, too.