When Stepping Up Hurts

Continuing the ‘stepping up’ theme – I was talking with my boss, also a childless stepmom, the other day about stepping up vs love and the conversation turned to Torey. Of all the Kids she is the hardest for me to step up for. And I realized, it’s because I don’t get that smile from her, I don’t see that my being there made a difference for her. When I attend her games or school activities I’m barely acknowledged. This year is better than last year – at least I usually get a “thanks for coming” as we’re leaving. Last year there was one game where she and my Husband had a whole conversation and she didn’t look at or acknowledge me once. Finally, as she was walking away, she turned to look at me and mumbled “see you later” and walked away. It’s so hard, when I feel completely dismissed and disregarded, to continue ‘stepping up’ for Torey. Then my boss pointed out – maybe she’s the one for whom it’s most important. I don’t know. I don’t know if it makes a difference to her if I show up or not. But I continue to try because you never know.

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Showing up – Band Concert

Being a stepmom is hard, but one of the things we can do is show up. We can show the stepkids they matter. We may not love them, we may not always like them, we may not have chosen them, but we can choose to be there for them. We can show them that they are important.

After my recent post about how important it is to show up it turned out I had my own opportunity to show up this week for Kelly’s band concert. I don’t know about you, but 6th Grade band concert’s are not my favorite way to spend an evening. That being said, when Kelly took the stage and looked out into the audience, her eyes searched for her people and when she found them – myself, Husband, her Mom – she lit up. She waved to us and we waved back. We showed up and she knew she mattered.

 

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Does it have to be love?

One of the things I struggle with as a stepmother is that I don’t feel love for the Kids. I like them a lot; for the most part I enjoy their company. But I don’t love them, and…my dirty little secret is that I’m not sure I want to love them. And then the Guilt descends.

But then I read the most recent post from Momastery, a guest post written by another Moma – Rachel, the Hands Free Mama. She writes about Love as a reference point and how showing a little love is the one guaranteed “right” thing a parent can do each day. In the middle of this essay on love she had a paragraph that stood out to me:

But then you attend an end-of-the-year school program. (And no matter what age the children are, this always happens.) You see a child on stage scanning the crowd with eager, almost frantic, eyes. And then suddenly, her eyes stop. As she enthusiastically waves at a focal point in the crowd, a visible sigh of relief comes from her small chest. If you follow her gaze to see what brought her such great comfort, you will see love etched across the face of the person who met her gaze. That child found her reference point, her source of comfort, her go-to place in times of uncertainty and doubt—and it made all the difference.

As I teared up reading the above I started thinking. I may not Love the Kids…not like their parents do, but I’ve seen that look from them. When I walk into the school auditorium for Laura’s Honor Society induction ceremony or Kelly’s band concert and their searching eyes meet mine, they light up. I have shown up for them and that makes a difference.

Does it matter that I love them like their parents do? Or does it matter more that I show up?

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