I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. There are certain things in life one is not cut out for, and this is one of them. This is my story, and I plan on using this site as the only place I can come and be honest with my own feelings and my roller coaster of emotions. Perhaps one day, after a few years I’ll come back here and smile or cry about what I now consider the most stressful and hardest part of my life: Step kids.

 I fell madly in love. I should have known from the beginning this was no easy walk in the park. Bringing home two heavy pieces of luggage, I thought maybe I could help. They seemed to be good kids. They helped, were never disrespectful, always played and asked me to pick the movie we would watch tonight. Years went by, and now my relationship with SS is the opposite of what it used to be.

My happiest days begin the second she says goodbye to our house for a 30% of that divided custody. The older she gets, the harder it gets to ignore her. I’ve witnessed her turn from this precious girl, to the most selfish, self-centered, spoiled brat. She is lazy, disorganized, loud, obnoxious, problematic, lacks hygiene even when it’s constantly reinforced, extremely hyper, defiant child. I don’t know what happened to her.

I never realized how bad I struggle until I was asked to write a Valentine’s card for her. I felt as if I was frozen. I couldn’t find one complement to write for her. I thought about it for minutes, trying to grasp one positive quality, and I couldn’t find one. Wow, not even one, therefore I lied. Whatever I wrote on that valentine’s day card was a simply not true. No, I’m not proud of you, no, you are not amazing.

I’ve always known from the very beginning that she was going to be a challenge. Those uncalled for remarks to adults, the “name calling”, which I never considered funny; were a joke to everyone else but me. The things you did to your grandma thinking it was deserved and comical, was never tolerated by me. I never thought it was funny. None of your behavior is funny. I don’t think I ever got over the last argument we both had, and I never will. I think biological parents are born with this sense of extra forgiveness and a double blindfold, just in case one falls, the other one stays up… but guess what? I was born with none. I can see you. The older you get, the more you become who you are, the more I dislike you.

We continue to adapt to this circle of resentment. I don’t like you and you don’t like me. You know the best part? We are both ok with it   I feel sorry for this world that will have to deal with such a selfish, self-centered and un-empathetic person.

I wish you knew how to clean your room, the way you know how to manipulate.

I wish you gave us space as much as you give us lies.

I am learning to enjoy silence because of you and find creativity in solace. You taught me that.

Sometimes I feel guilty. Guilty because I wonder if all three of you were happier without me. Without me your dreams of being a full time mini wife would come true. However, I feel that by allowing you to win, I also lose my happiness, and who are you to take my happiness away?

The moment you get home I feel I need to grab my shield and get ready for the battle or just hide. I'll continue to write about our battles until someone walks away from the war.

Until next story