This is an excerpt from my blog. It's style is very different than the venting I do on here...
Ok… marriage… check.

Let’s go down the check list of things…

Husband…

kids…

dogs…

house…

car…

Oddly enough, I feel like none of these are mine. Wait. They aren’t. Rushing into a marriage wasn’t the smartest decision of my life. I wonder why I did that at times. I wonder what I would tell myself if a future me from 2021 were to show up at my doorstep. *Sigh*… “everything will be ok.” Are those the words I would hear? Or would it be the dreaded, “If you don’t leave, you will mess up your life.”

I’m sitting here in a coffee shop waiting for my stepdaughter to get out of school. I think about the stupid agreement my husband made with his ex girlfriend. To travel an hour away to drop his daughter off for school on Mondays, Tuesdays, and every other Wednesday. An hour each way. For the most part, I’m a thinker and preparer of the future. I try to figure how my actions today will lead to results of tomorrow. It’s obvious he didn’t do this when he made the agreement – how will this agreement affect my future life?

Amanda is 5. About to turn 6. She asked if I would join her at school today. I told my husband that I would take her to school today as a favor. Besides my younger siblings, the most school I have been involved with, as an adult is dropping the youngsters off. I see the school approaching and park. Amanda grabs my hand and escorts me down a long drafty hallway. The classroom doors are situated outside like a motel. ”16!” My thoughts are interrupted by her chiming. “Huh?” I say. “16! This is my class.” I slowly walk into the room. It’s filled with children buzzing about… reading, playing games, talking. I wondered where all the structure was. I was reminded about kindergarden. All the children had their designated spots until the teacher was ready to start class. The class was fairly well behaved but doing whatever. Amanda points to her teacher and I went up to introduce myself. “Hi, I’m Desiree.” She gave me a blank stare… “the stepmom…” ”Oh yes. That’s right.” I felt her eyeing me up and down then went back to what she was doing. Amanda grabbed my hand and began to show me around her room. I was trying not to freeze up with nervousness as I fought back thoughts of what the HELL am I doing here??? “I don’t belong here. She isn’t my daughter and teachers have no respect for ‘the other woman.’” I began to panick within myself. I didn’t even know what to do in a classroom to “help” the teacher. And why??? A little girl approached Amanda asking who I was. Shit… Amanda didn’t know what to say as I tried to cleverly come up with, “I am another mother. Amanda has 2 moms.” Great… now she’s gonna go home and tell mommy and daddy how Amanda has 2 moms at home. This is so unpleasant. Amanda showed me the artwork around the room, read to me her stories. I was impressed by how much more advanced her schoolwork was, compared to the other students. All of a sudden a song came on and the students sat on the floor. I stayed in back and froze. NOW what do I do? Thoughts racing, ok now I may be sitting in some little persons spot, I have no clue what to do. I’m not a MOM!!! And I let myself get pressured into coming to class. When I mentioned doing it to my husband, it was in passing. Then he has to go and relay this to Amanda. Doing this, he comes back and says how excited she is. REALY??? Ugh… sometimes I think I’m too flimsy.

The song finishes and the teacher points me out and asks if I will be staying the whole day. I just stammered like an idiot. “No… so what time do I need to pick Amanda up?” I bid Amanda bye and quickly retreat to the door. I don’t know what I expected out of the teacher. Perhaps a little, this is what we do explanation? Maybe I was too sensitive. Maybe me being the other woman upsets her? Or maybe it was a combination of both. One thing is for sure- stepmoms definitely get less respect and recognition than bio-moms. I feel mortified to be honest. Almost to tears.

Once again I remember how I feel confined by this role I feel my husband is guilting me into. How my days completely revolve around him and his kids. His crappy car. Fuck. Start working more so you can buy a new car and quit using mine. That’s part of the problem. Not having the freedom to use my car as I want/need is a huge burden.

I take solice though. He will not have my fertility. For the first time in 6 years, I am getting on the pill. He can’t have that part of me. Not until I feel better taken of. Not until I feel he has manned up more. I may not have a steady job but I contribute about as much as he does to the household… which I don’t feel is right. No… I can’t be tied down by another one of HIS kids… even if it would be mine. I think about how he said he was a parttime dad… parttime trainer. Apparently his ex couldn’t stand being home with the babies… but I also think it’s because he couldn’t provide adequately as well. Don’t get me wrong… that bitch is crazy and a trainwreck and a half.

Thank God I found a pilates class. I have to get away today… and away from my thoughts. I think I’m having a pity party and need a slap in the face. Husband is working to make a better life… he’s trying…