mother — Blog — The Blended Family Experience

This post has taken me a little longer to pull together than I would have liked. It’s pretty difficult to put words to the emotional chaos and mental rollercoaster that accompany surviving a divorce to find yourself back in a another serious relationship and try to pack that narrative into a tidy, little blog post. But here I am, giving it the good old college try.

I was doing everything wrong. At least, that was what the nagging voice in the back of my mind was telling me. I had been separated from my first husband for more than a few years, in the midst of a divorce, living as a single mother, and I wasn’t fostering a career that would allow me to support myself and my children. I wasn’t concretely putting into place a plan as to what my transition as a legally single mother would look like. I looked at the single moms I knew who were busting their butts in jobs while trying to raise their kids and pay bills, and I felt “less than.” I’d invested so much of my energy into making sure my special-needs daughter and younger son were thriving through the storm, that I couldn’t get a grip on my own growth and self-worth. I needed to figure out what my new “grown-up” life was supposed to look like. I was struggling, and I was struggling hard. I was beginning to feel like I was operating from a place of desperation, rather than a place of self love and hope. On the flip side, and slightly paradoxically, I’d developed a strong sense of independence. I found myself in this routine of my children spending every other weekend with their father, giving me time and space that I fiercely protected as my own. Minus a live-in partner, I was strictly accountable to my children and myself.

Then I met Andy. Andy wasn’t the first relationship I’d found myself in during those years, because let’s face it, we all get lonely. Most of us want to find our value and validation in the heart, eyes, and soul of another. And, honestly, sometimes, the truth is, those relationships can provide a pretty effective distraction from ourselves. So, there were a handful of almost serious relationships over the course of those years, leaving the occasional emotional battle scar. By the time Andy came along, I’d nursed enough broken hearts, that I’d gotten to the point where I’d come to the conclusion that my only opportunity at building a new future for myself might look like moving out of state. I needed the opportunity to start from scratch, and a serious relationship wasn’t going to fit into that plan. But when I met Andy, there was something about his gentle yet fiery spirit combined with the humanity in how open he was with his brokenness, that captured my heart. His creative nature reached a part of myself that I had long buried with my childhood. Little did I know, that taking our relationship to a more serious level would trigger a less romantic characteristic from my younger years that had been lying just under the surface...Fear.

Here I was, a woman, in spite of the distractions and chaos, who was just finally getting a true sense of who I was and who I wanted to be. Then, here is this man, asking me to move in with him. To pick up my children, myself, almost 15 years of another life, bring all the beauty and all of the grit I’d created with my life up until that point and rebuild a new life with him and two little boys...under the roof of his previous marriage (a can of worms for another day). Boy, oh boy, Fear was loving that. Fear latched on and found sneaky little ways to sabotage everything. I found myself dragging my feet when it came to moving all of my things into “our” home. I had been able to reside in my former marital home up until then, so I had the luxury of being able to gradually move from that home to my home with Andy at my own pace. Fear made sure it was a snail’s pace. I would find myself in petty arguments with Andy, repeating how I felt as though I was suffocating in the relationship, like the walls were closing in on me. I had days I felt despondent about the whole situation.

Then one day, Andy called me out on all of it. He called me out about not acting with intention in regards to the relationship, and he nailed it. He knew I was scared. Of course, at the time, I wasn’t about to tell him he was right, but he was more right than I wanted to believe. Fear was running the show. Fear had me walking through life in a mental fog. The fear list was long: fear of losing myself; fear of finding myself in a failing relationship again; fear of what this new life meant for my children; fear of being a stepmom; fear of who Andy might really be and what his personal baggage might mean for my life; fear of missing my life’s true purpose; fear of feeling beholden to someone; and the list goes on and on. However, Andy’s words finally gave what I was feeling a name, a simple four letter name. In that transition, I started to sense the tiniest amount of clarity. That clarity evolved into understanding. My mind began to process my emotional baggage for what it was, and before long, I really began to see how destructive fear could be when mismanaged. Fear had probably destroyed my first marriage…

Giving Fear it’s proper, healthy space has become almost a daily practice for me. It has been my largest obstacle coming into this blended family life. Naming, recognizing, and embracing it as one of my biggest flaws is allowing me to not only open my heart to my husband and our four children, but it allows me to be a kinder and gentler soul to myself.

~Stephanie

**If you haven't checked out our last video post, I highly recommend you do. It can be found under the Vlog tab, or if you prefer, we've also posted an audio version under the audio section of this site.

Next up, Andy!