I always knew being a stepmom would come with tough choices, but I never expected one morning to suddenly ruin my life completely. I wasn’t trying to be the villain. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. I just chose not to put my life on pause for a child who isn’t my responsibility.
These blog postings were recommended to me by a friend, so I’m trying them out in the hopes of finding some answers. I knew entering a blended family wouldn’t be simple when I got married again two years ago.
My husband’s previous marriage produced a daughter. I’ve always made an effort to be kind and respectful to her. However, I also made one thing obvious right away. I’m not her mother. I never made an effort to be.
We’ve had a decent dynamic so far. She stays with us alternate weeks. When she’s here, I cook her meals, help with homework sometimes, and we even have a few inside jokes.
But I never tried to replace her real mother. That’s her lane, not mine.
One morning, everything changed.
It was a regular weekday. I had an important project due at work and was already running late. My husband was out of town for a work trip.
As I was getting ready, I heard my stepdaughter call out from her room. When I checked on her, she looked sick. Burning hot forehead.
I tried calling her mom right away. No answer. I called twice. Texted. Nothing.
At that point, I stood there frozen for a moment. I had to decide. Either cancel work and stay home, or go in and trust that her mom would eventually show up. And honestly, I chose myself.
I know how that probably sounds. Cruel. Selfish. Cold. But I didn’t make that decision lightly.
I’ve put a lot of effort into my career. I would have been letting my team down and taking a big career risk if I had missed that day. I’ve always been instructed to stay in my lane, so I didn’t feel like I belonged in “mom mode.”
So I gave my stepdaughter some medicine. Left her water nearby. Turned the fan on low. And left. I asked my neighbor to keep checking on her until her mom or dad shows up.
What I came home to shocked me.
When I came back that evening, I knew something was off. The house was too quiet. I headed straight to her room, and that’s when I saw it. My husband was sitting on the edge of her bed. His ex-wife was sitting next to him, they were holding hands, looking at their daughter.
The two of them, however, stared up at me as if I had just committed a crime when I walked in. My spouse lost his temper with me. claimed that I left his daughter behind. called me cold-hearted. said that I wouldn’t have left if I “loved her like my own.”
However, that’s the problem. I’ve never pretended to love her as much as I love myself. Although I have shown her respect and encouragement, I am not her mother. He dismissed my reminder that her mother didn’t respond either. said that as soon as she noticed my texts, she came over.
He took her side over me. So now I’m stuck wondering. Am I really such a monster for not skipping work? Is it wrong to put my own needs first? I feel like I did enough, did my part.
Not long ago, I was the one struggling, reaching out for support from my mom.
