Don’t get it twisted, I’m not saying the person you’re dealing with is toxic or “bad”. I’m saying that the relationship between you is simply not good for either of you anymore. This could be friends, family, or more extreme, a significant other.
1. You feel stuck with this person.
That’s to say that if you met this person today, you wouldn’t chose this person to be a part of your life. You may feel like “well, they’ve been around so long, that I’m just stuck with them.” That is just something that we tell ourselves so we don’t have to deal with the problem.
2. You’re constantly walking on eggshells around this person.
You should be able to speak your mind around your people. They should understand, if they truly know you and your heart that you telling the truth is not a judgement. You can speak your mind without fear of being taken the wrong way, with misplaced implied intentions. The people closest to you, that truly know you the best, always come from love. So if you’re finding yourself filtering your words so not to anger them, the relationship might be toxic. That’s not how healthy relationships work. They involve saying the hard things, too.
3. They are constantly dragging you down.
You’re in a good mood – until you speak to them. All the time. It’s a constant. I’m not talking about this person going through a bad time. We make exception and sit with them in those times. It’s when it’s ALWAYS something. Constant drama, constantly being offended, maybe they’ve constantly talked shit behind your back to friends and family but never to your face…but let’s be honest, you still know. You hear about it.
We all go through hard times. That’s a fact of life and something that makes us human and brings us together, links us through our own humanity. If someone in your life is constantly doing the things mentioned or making you feel like the above though, that is something completely different. It may be time to wish the relationship well, thank it for serving the purpose it has in your life and moving on. Never wish harm on that person. They are good just as you are good. It’s just that this chapter is done. Be proud of the role the person played in your story and wish for them the very best, as they will hopefully do for you.
If you've read this far, and you're a mom wanting more, jump in my free group, Exhausted to Energized moms. There's a free, 3-day mindset challenge in there to get you started.
If you're simply looking for more things to read, check out my mommy mindset reading guide, for a list of my favorite books around mindset, relationships, and well - life!
Stay inspired, and when you aren't, please know that you're not alone.
All the love,
Bryn J
Of course nobody is perfect. When I say this as a stepparent, I’ve noticed that many people have a much different reaction than when I say it about my biological (legal?) child. I have a hard time with “bio” versus “step" as well because well, my step kids are also adoptees.
Step-parents of adopted children have virtually no support, but that brings me to another topic entirely, so I’ll digress on those specifics for now.
Anyway, back to our kids not being perfect. The truth is, I spend as much time with my step-kids as I do my biological child. The truth is, I spend as much time with my step-kids as their mother or father does. The truth is, I’m still not my step-kid’s mom. The truth is, I’m not trying to be. I am a parent in their lives, just as my ex-husband’s girlfriend is in my biological daughter’s life. I’m expected to love them, help them, guide them, be there for them - but be annoyed by them or admit they aren’t perfect? Oh no. Not that.
Luckily my husband disagrees with that sentiment. I’ve caught myself multiple times having conversations with people and when it involves the step kids, their reaction has been much different than if I had said the same thing about my biological child.
“You signed up for this”, they’ve told me. Did I? Did I sign up for this? Did I know what I was truly getting myself into? Does any mother, before they’re a mom, truly know what they’re getting themselves into? Heck no! We are all out here winging it, doing our best. Being a stepparent is no different, except for the additional criticism that comes with it.
So your friend, the one loving her babies, loving someone else’s babies. The next time she needs to vent, just listen. This shit is hard and rewarding and brutal and lovely, all at the same time. She is expected to love the kids that aren’t hers, as if they are hers, until a big event comes up. Then she is expected to take the back seat. It’s an impossible standard to live up to, and we are all just doing the best we can.
So often as parents we get hung-up on things that don’t really matter. No, I don’t mean we should be like “but did they die?”. That would be fucked up and irresponsible. However, there are some things I’ve been hearing that are just insane. The first is this idea that moms need to be martyrs and be all sunshiny and drooling over their kids all the time. Yes, they will always be that beautiful little baby in your eyes mama, but no, they are not perfect. Of course, I can love my kids while also knowing that they aren’t perfect.
Today my stepdaughter couldn’t come up with a damn thing that would motivate her to clean her room when our therapist asked her the question. The truth is, I knew when he asked the question that if she was honest, she couldn’t think of anything. Not because she is bad, not because she wants to be defiant (well sometimes maybe), but because she honestly doesn’t care about a mess. That is her. It annoys the crap out of us, just like I annoyed the crap out of my mother. Also, she tends to tell some lies in order to attempt to please others or keep herself out of perceived trouble, so I was simply proud of her that she told the truth. I should let her know that tomorrow.
As a result, the therapist asked her who, of her father and I, was better at cleaning. She said her dad was better at cleaning, but I was better at organizing. I think that is because her dad will pick up after dinner, after himself, after the kids, but I tend to be the one to deep clean and make things pretty – or at least warm, welcoming, and cozy. That is important to me. It’s a whole vibe that I wish for our family.
Anyway, after this first question, our therapist then asked who she would like to help her clean her room. She picked me. “Great, just fucking great”, I thought. It’s not that I have a problem cleaning, or helping her, I’ve done that more times than I can count. But to be called out as the one in therapy sat a bit different with me. I suddenly felt like the kid that didn't know the answer, called on in class. Nervous. feeling like eyes were on me. I had no right answers.
“Ten minutes every night”, he told her. He told us to set a timer, shut the door. Ten minutes, her and me. In theory I was kind of thrilled to have this time with her, even if it was cleaning her laundry explosion of a room, with tiny rubber bands strewn about on the floor. Then I thought about my daughter Charlotte, she would be home in two days, and doing anything without her glued to me, especially that first day, was always questionable. “Good”, I told myself, this will be good for Charlotte too.
Meanwhile a pit formed in my stomach. “Ugh”, I thought to myself.
So, tonight was the first night. Timer for 10 minutes. We did it. Honestly, I enjoyed it as I thought I would. We will see how the rest of the week goes. As her dad and I have told her hundreds of times, if she would just go and focus and do it, it wouldn’t take long at all. We got it about 85% done in just this first evening of cleaning together.
Our therapist also told her when we were done to thank me for helping her and for my time and to give me a hug. I’m not one for making kids hug me, even if they live in my house, but a thank you would’ve been nice. Maybe next time. Maybe not. Either way, it’s not about that. It never was.
I haven’t spoken much here, in this space, about the trials I’ve took on as a stepmother. Mostly because I figured I didn’t have much to add to the conversation, and that I really, in the grand scheme of things, was just getting started – still learning my roll, if you will.
Typing that, sounded comical. So often we feel like we have these rolls to fulfill of woman, wife, mother, stepmother. It’s all bullshit. The truth is, none of us know what we are doing, and we are all just relying on each other to figure it out. Thank God for each other. Honestly, I’m not sure how I’d do it without you all. Don’t get me wrong, some of your advice sucks, at least for me and my family, but some of it is straight gold. Again, at least for me and my family. Which is why I felt compelled to finally share a bit more. As I’ve shared some here and there on social media about stepfamily life, I’ve gotten a few “YES!” and a handful of “ME TOO!” responses, so I figured hell, if I can help at least one stepmom, it’s completely worth it.
As you may know, or not, I’m not just a stepmom, and biological mom, I’m a stepmom to adopted children. This brings on a whole new set of things to navigate. Children losing their nuclear families due to abuse, put with foster families, and finally adopted only to have that world also crumble before them. There’s no light-hearted or easy thing about it, honestly. Only tragedy.
So, as any mother would do, I reached out for support. From moms, from stepmoms, from anyone who might know any damn thing. I read that families that adopt children have a higher incidence of divorce due to not only all of the stressors and things that come along with not the adoption process, but all of the things that lead them to adoption, as well as adjusting to this new family life.
“Ok”, I thought, then I won’t be alone. Right? Wrong. So, dead ass wrong. There is NOTHING out there I’ve been able to find describing my situation. We’ve sought out family therapy and even our therapist kind of keeps trying to treat us like a nuclear family and honestly, that kind of is starting to piss me off. We have an appointment tomorrow; I think I’ll let him know.
So, here I am. Grasping at bits and pieces of this blended family life with a ton of support and direction, but none (literally none) that speaks to my specific needs. I hope whatever I have to say helps you, in at least some small way. No two stories are alike, but with some trial and error, a lot of love, and even more understanding, we can learn just how these kids need to be loved.
Wow. Even as I write these words I can barely believe it’s already the end of 2021. If you had told me at the beginning of the year that my life would take the turns and changes it did this year, I would have laughed, and quite frankly, probably told you to fuck off.
Nature and being outside is something that keeps me grounded, and yet at the same time – free. It’s my reminder of what burns inside of me. This year was a lot like nature. Unpredictable.
And just like that the dog trainer is here unexpectedly.
OK, back to nature. Or writing. Or what were we talking about again? You see, it’s been a couple days since I typed that last paragraph. Days filled with kids events, kid tantrums, and well – mommy tantrums.
But here I am. Back where I can relax through getting these words on paper. Maybe you’ll read them and laugh. Maybe you’ll cry. Maybe you’ll find something helpful, maybe you’ll think I’m nuts. Hell, maybe you won’t be reading these words at all – that’s ok. This is for me.
I started this little blog for me, and it will always remain so, with the hope that maybe it will reach someone who is feeling alone and they’ll think “YES! Same, girl same!”. I’m not too eccentric to think I can be the only one feeling all the things I do in a day.
Anyway, grounding. Grounded. Don’t confuse the feeling I describe as grounded with being shackled. More like a free confidence. The things I do to stay feeling a little less crazy throughout the day filled with kids schedules and teenage attitudes. Like standing outside on that first warm spring day and just lifting your face toward the sun. Maybe that first spring day feels so good from a lack of vitamin D, or maybe it’s something else. Either way, it’s incredibly freeing for me to be outside and in nature. It’s a reminder of the freedom I have, and, at the same time, the vastness of the world. How, I am so small in the grand scheme of the universe, ye like a drop in a pool of water, even my small and seemingly insignificant existence will have such a ripple effect. Tiny ripples with my every action.
As I reflect on the last year I think a lot about all of these ripple effects. From myself and from others. Some ripples hit each other, and they just stop. Some intersect awkwardly and the ripples get a little random and don’t make a lot of sense for a while. This last example could describe the last year for me. For our family.
I’ll share more later, but for now, I’ll simply contemplate what this last year has meant.
I know what it was. It was HARD. Very hard.
The bigger question is “what has it taught me?” It’s taught me to be kind. It’s taught me that things are not always as they seem. It’s taught me that some people just want to be right. Most importantly, it’s reminded me of what matters the most. So, into 2022, I’m bringing what matters, and leaving the rest behind. One thing at a time.
My word for this year – balance. I will seek balance in all that I do. All that I am.
