My toenails are painted in a shade of burgundy. They always are. I cannot explain why I absolutely need to have them covered in polish at all times; that’s just one of my quirks, I guess. Anyway, a few nights ago I was at my dad’s house, and McKenna was admiring my toes. After staring at my feet for a few moments, my youngest sister grinned at me, took off her socks and revealed her own toes to me; they were painted as well, in a startling shade of hot pink.
“My toes are pink,” McKenna told me, and then, “My mommy painted them. Maybe my mommy can paint your toes too.”
The thought of my step-mother painting my toenails made me want to simultaneously giggle and gag.
What’s the deal with step-mothers, I wonder. Lynn isn’t a bad person; she’s got a lot of admirable qualities. She’s very smart. She cares about a lot of people and issues. She can be funny on occassion. She loves my father. I might allow myself to genuinely like her is she weren’t married to him…
I am not rude to her, nor is she rude to me. But we’re not close either; Lynn and I tolerate one another, I think, and that’s about it. We recognize the fact that we’ve got to accept one another because we’re both linked to my father. Am I being an idiot, though, for simply tolerating her? For being stubborn and refusing to see her as anything other than my father’s wife?
There’s a possibility I’m being childish. That’s quite possible, actually. Part of me thinks that it’s quite acceptable for me not to like Lynn; isn’t she the one who’s in my mother’s place? If I allow myself to like her, aren’t I somehow betraying my mother? Part of me thinks that I’m using Lynn as a convienient scapegoat on which to lay all the blame for the colapse of my parents’ marriage, which isn’t fair at all.
It must be terribly difficult to be a step-parent, I think.
I have had a horrific experience with having a stepparent. So much so, my stepparent is in prison for the way she did (or did not) raised her kids.
Speaking as a divorced parent, I am incredibly gun-shy about even the prospect of dating again, let alone marrying again in fears that she will not love my son.
I figured if I stop thinking about myself and concentrate on raising my son, I might come out ahead.
You haven’t said a single bad thing about Lynne so I’m inclined to think that you’re just afraid to betray your mom. You won’t. Your mom should be secure enough to let you love other people. Your dad I’m sure would love you to love his wife, just as he loves you. And your Father commands you to love her. But He does give you the choice. “Perfect love casts out all fear.” Could you picture yourself having a threesome toenail painting party: you, McKenna and Lynne?? What a party that could turn out to be.