Soon after my 50th birthday, I became single after a long relationship ended. I moved into an apartment, walked with my dog, and spent the winter in quiet self-reflection.
As the days grew longer, I swiped dating apps with two non-negotiables in mind: a narrow geographic boundary and no young children at home.
Yet at 52, I became the stepmother to a teenager.
His son was the center of everything
I never had children, but my now husband became a parent in his 40s. My husband’s first family lived next door to his in-laws, and his wife homeschooled their only child. His son was the center of a stable family surrounded by community.
Upon learning his parents were divorcing, his then-9-year-old son packed a bag and bolted from the house. By the time the divorce was finalized, the ex-spouses had settled in houses almost an hour’s drive apart. Like many children, their son spent weekdays at his mom’s and weekends at his dad’s.
My husband’s first message was a sweet compliment about my dog. He lived nearby, but his then-middle school-aged son spent weekends with him. Still, I liked him enough for a weeknight date. When he asked me for another date, we agreed to meet late Sunday afternoon after his son returned to his mother’s house.
From the start, my husband was obviously a loving, involved father. He attended all his activities and spoke to him nightly, stepping out of the room if we were on a date. I admired this, yet when he suggested that I meet his son a few months into our relationship, I wasn’t ready.
“You’re the most important people in my life,” he said. “I want you to meet.”
I avoided the suggestion. My lack of knowledge about teenage boys frightened me. This would be easier, I thought, if he had a daughter. I was also worried about his son. After learning about his reaction to the divorce, I didn’t want to cause more distress.
I felt awkward when we first met
We met on a summer evening. He was lanky like adolescent boys are, and towered over me.
We went for Mexican food — his favorite. While the conversation between father and son was easy, I felt awkward. My husband steered the discussion toward art, a topic the three of us would bond over.
I planned our next outings around activities: a circus-arts performance, miniature golf, and a movie. When I introduced him to my senior dog, she wasn’t afraid or awkward but leaped onto the couch where he was sitting like a puppy, and licked his face.
Months later, my husband proposed atop a mountaintop. When my husband told his son we had gotten engaged, his reaction was, “It’s your life. You can do whatever you want.”
Moving together was hard at first
After we moved in together, there were unexpected challenges. Besides sharing a small space with one bathroom, I longed for weekends alone with my husband. While first-time couples have time to date and form attachment before children arrive, couples who enter relationships after having children with someone else enter an already-established family with its own dynamics.
When I suggested weekend alone time with my husband, he was reluctant due to the established custody agreement. We went to a couples counselor, who stressed the importance of time just for us. After several months, we were able to have occasional weekends alone — something I cherish more now that we’re married.
I’ve also struggled with feeling like an outsider whenever my now stepson speaks about his family before the divorce. At first, I wondered if he resented me. Still, I’ve learned that it’s not uncommon for children to emotionally long for the restoration of their original family, even years after a divorce.
I don’t want labels to define our relationship
My husband’s son regards his mother’s partner as his stepmother. Since his primary residence is with them, he has a closer relationship with her.
I don’t let labels define us. Instead, I focus on making his time with us positive. I plan outings like museum visits and musicals — or let him decide what we should do. I also give my husband plenty of time alone with his son; their bond is hardwired into them. Yet we’re continually forming a separate, unique bond.
In the summer of 2024, I planned a trip for our new family to Maine. As we ran into the cold ocean, climbed granite peaks, and devoured huge slices of blueberry pie, I was thrilled to see my stepson’s excitement.
Perhaps, I thought, these are new memories, something we’ll talk about together years from now.
Read the full article here
