War on the home front: step children
I had been divorced for a couple of years when I met my new partner. He had a teenage daughter who shared her time between him and her mother When I moved in with John five years later, Lucy was away at university. My contact with her had been sporadic, but on the surface at least, warm enough, until I moved in with him – and suddenly and unexpectedly, war broke out. “This is my house; f*** off out of here if you’re not going to fit in with me,” she shrieked one morning, shortly after I moved in last summer. It was 2am, she had returned from a party and had the TV blaring – I asked her to turn it down. I was exhausted after a month of the house being congested by her friends celebrating – almost nightly – the end of term. What had drained me even more was that her father refused to speak to her about the late nights. “It doesn’t bother me,” he declared, “it’s your problem.” “So I can talk to her about it then – ask her to tone it down a bit?” I asked. “No,” he snapped, “you’ll have to learn to fit in, this is what living with students is like.” I realise now that I was the most ill-prepared stepmother. It had never dawned on either of us that she would resent me – after all, she had had five years to get used to the idea that we planned to live together. Now I sense that she had been harbouring a constant fear of losing her dad to me. It took the fallout from the row, which nearly split up our “blended” family, for me to finally “get it”. I began to think more deeply about what was happening in our household, and trawled the internet for support. However, there is very little information available on step-parenting, and what little there is concentrates on young, dependent children. I wasn’t savvy enough to gauge that Lucy’s effing and blinding at me that night was actually an expression of her fear of losing a parent. Instead, my blood boiled and I began shrieking back at her. John was woken by the noise, leapt to her defence, and ordered me up to bed and out of the house at the first opportunity. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more,” I snarled. “Keep your bloody house and let your daughter decide how you live your life – I’m out of here!” I began to pack my things, while he started to backtrack. “Don’t go, I’m sorry,” he cried. “But I feel so torn between you and Lucy. I don’t know what to do.” I responded to his pain and we fell into bed, completely shattered. On the internet I eventually discovered psychotherapist Jill Curtis, who helps couples struggling with step-parenting. Jill told me: “Don’t let romantic love blind you. You are first and foremost a mum or dad to your children, however old they are, and they will resent a new person coming into that dynamic.” The common assumption is that, while it is difficult to be a step-parent to young children who need a lot of “looking after” it is a doddle where adult children are involved, because they have their own lives to get on with. But Frank Collins, director of Stepfamily Scotland, and a stepfather himself says that “When battle-lines are drawn, the natural parent has a hard choice to make. “Usually, they choose their partner, whereas a natural parent with young children will always put their child’s needs first.” So what is the solution? It seems the only way to create a happy, blended family is simple yet so difficult, and it is all about communication. Agony aunt Suzie Hayman is evangelical about regular family conferences, at which every member of the family has a chance to air their feelings, work towards compromise and, hopefully, move forward in a happier and stronger manner. I find it difficult to picture having “circle time” with Lucy, where she articulates her needs in this new family of ours. There is so much mistrust between us now. She ruled the roost and in I swaggered, knocking her off her perch. The image of the “wicked stepmother” comes with the territory, and I know I cannot take it personally. It is my responsibility to do one simple thing for our new family, which my man and I created with such hope – to listen without prejudice. And one day, hopefully, Lucy will believe that her presence is an asset to my life. * All names have been changed. Written by Anthea Mann
This article was created: 14 July 2006.
This article was last edited: 13 December 2007.
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