I became a stepmom in my 40s. I survived and all of us are doing great. I remember that it took me into my 30s until I truly appreciated my own mother and still wonder what, if any, impact I have made on my boyfriends’ son, my stepson, my son – labels get all confused in these types of relationships just like the boundary lines of what we can say or not say, or care about or not care about, or ask or not ask….
A month ago we were driving in the car together while he was home at Christmas and I was working on posture with the lacrosse ball behind my shoulder in the car when he told me he was worried about me doing that because if we got into an accident, I could get extra hurt by having that ball there. I thought it was the sweetest concern ever. Sometimes I’ve wondered if I’ve made a difference at all or, if I’ve damaged him in some way with the conflicts we did have (probably no different than any teen and their parents). Anyway, it was a moment that mattered a lot to me.
p.s. Main pic is probably at least six years old 🙂