When I opened the door to two police officers responding to a 911 call from my stepson, I realized stepmom life would never look like I had imagined.
I thought I understood the assignment when I married my husband, a father of four. I was ecstatic to form an “instant” family. After all, I’d played the role of the cool, fun adult that kids always liked. And as a child of a divorce, I had been put in the middle of enough high-conflict situations between my parents that I would surely know how to navigate most things.
If I’m being honest with myself, my expectations were unrealistic from the start. I dreamed of Rockwell-level holiday dinners and Martha-Stewart-styled game nights. Family vacations and happy holiday cards.
But I quickly realized that building a life with my new “instant family” was going to look far different than I imagined. Less Brady Bunch and more Married With Children, perhaps. But somehow, I never considered that I might be viewed as the evil stepmother.
There were just a lot of things I hadn’t anticipated — like the resistance the kids would have to me. Not really as a person, as they seemed to like me well enough. But more to the mere concept of me. I wasn’t prepared for the hurt of my stepson saying, “Life would just be better if you didn’t exist.”
I hadn’t understood all that would come with my “instant family”: the constant noise (or smells) that accompanied four kids, the school pickup logistics, and needing “express written permission” just to take them to the doctor.
It chipped away at my self-esteem every time the kids reported something they had heard about me at the other house or my husband forwarded an email from the school stating that I had been left off yet again. Despite all that I was doing, I felt like I would never be seen as a “real” parent.
I quickly realized that building a life with my new “instant family” was going to look far different than I imagined. Less Brady Bunch and more Married With Children, perhaps. But somehow, I never considered that I might be viewed as the evil stepmother.
I had been a successful lawyer for years, but as a new stepmom, I doubted myself at every turn. In first families, most couples have time to bond with each other and then bond together with the kids who come along. Stepmoms are thrown into families that existed long before they came along, and they struggle through some pretty dicey, no-win situations.
In our first year of marriage, my husband had a new military assignment supervising 12-hour shifts, often overnight, and always in a secure location with no cell access. So, as a brand-new stepmom, I was either waking up four kids and getting them ready for and to school, or I was collecting them from school and getting through homework and bedtime. Without a lifeline to my spouse.
Chaos doesn’t even begin to describe it.
The day I opened my front door to two police officers, my youngest stepson had refused to come in from playing outside. He is a loving, sweet boy at his core, but with a severe traumatic brain injury sustained a few years prior, he often couldn’t control his impulses, actions, or emotions. And on this day, I had dared ask him to come inside to take his shower.
He looked almost proud when the officers showed up. I, meanwhile, was mentally rehearsing my move to a remote island.
The officers were beyond understanding as they talked with him about when you should and shouldn’t call 911. He was left slightly chagrined with some new Junior Sheriff stickers, but my face was flushed, wondering how the neighbors in our tony community would gossip about the police cars out front.
Those first few years, I heard the dreaded “you can’t make me, you’re not my mom” more than once — from more than one kid. I was in what felt like an untenable position of having to try to wrangle them into homework and pajamas while having no real authority (or confidence).
The more chaotic life became, the more I wondered if I had made a mistake. I put on a smile at every turn and told everyone how happy I was. But the pressure continued to build, and one day, I did snap. My other stepson had pushed me to the brink, and I hit my breaking point. I looked him dead in the eye and blurted, “You. Little. Sh*t.”
Not my finest moment. And one that got thrown back at me repeatedly despite my immediate apology, even though it had been his violent outburst that had thrown me over the edge.
Stepmom life isn’t black and white. We’re not all saints, and we all make mistakes. But very few of us are actually evil. Yet, we usually aren’t given the benefit of the doubt by society, and that can be a lonely place to live — another piece of stepmomhood I hadn’t prepared for.
When moms vent about their kids, people hand them a glass of wine. No one questions their fitness as a parent. When stepmoms vent, we usually hear some variation of, “You knew what you were signing up for” or, “If you can’t love them like your own, leave.” Just check out social media comments or the comments section of almost any article about stepparents.
It’s no wonder stepmoms learn to keep their mouths shut and smile, absorbing it all while they silently question themselves.
But for all the moments that made me feel lonely and unappreciated in my first few years of blended family life, there have been many bright spots to counter them. Like every time my youngest stepson has taken my hand to tell me he loves me, which he still does, even as a teenager.
Or seeing my stepdaughter’s face when she got accepted into her top college choice after we had stayed up until midnight helping her think through her essays, one of which I read through tears when I discovered she’d written about my influence on her.
Stepmom life isn’t black and white. We’re not all saints, and we all make mistakes. But very few of us are actually evil.
It took a lot of hard work on myself to learn that I didn’t need to worry about what was said about me at the other house (or anywhere) or what other people thought of me. Because I can’t control those things.
Preserving my peace and regaining my confidence meant releasing resentment and focusing only on the things I could control. Like my own actions, reactions, and boundaries. And maybe losing the phrase “you little sh*t” from my vocabulary.
When I was able to fully concentrate on my relationships with my spouse and my stepkids, I realized a few things. We didn’t have to look like the Brady Bunch to be happy. I don’t have to prove to anyone but myself that I’m worthy of a spot in the family. And yes, as I approach my eighth wedding anniversary, it has all been worth it… and then some.
So, for stepmoms who might be having the same doubts right now, please know that you’re not alone. You’re not evil. And you’re not a failure for having doubts.
Seek out other women who get it — through support communities, podcasts, or experts who lean on research, not just their personal stories. We’re stronger together. And we’re worth it, too.
Cameron Normand is a stepfamily expert, CEO of Stepfamily Solutions, and host of the popular Stepmom Diaries podcast. She has appeared on CBS News Los Angeles and the CW Austin, and has been featured in Kiplinger, Business Insider, CNET, The Cut, Upjourney, and Today Parenting, among others. A lawyer by training, she worked in national politics in Washington, D.C., for 23 years and was named one of the Washington Business Journal’s “Women Who Mean Business.”
