The Step-Parent Paradox
When help becomes harm
"Are you working harder at the problem than he is?" That's what a friend asked upon seeing my creation: a three-ring binder, inches thick, meticulously tabbed with documents for my boyfriend's custody battle.
Of course, I worked harder. How could I not? Watching someone risk losing visitation rights over a lack of organization was not an option, not when I had the means to help. But it was a complex situation.
My boyfriend battled his past as a recovering substance abuser. Rage, fear, and old resentments fueled his ex. And their son, only seven, was caught in the aftermath of their long-ended marriage, now further strained by our relationship—a connection the ex resented deeply. In all this, I believed I could make a difference for their boy.
In a recent TikTok video I posted, this story garnered over 311,000 views and hundreds of comments. "I’m ten years out from dealing with this as the baby mama—the damage it caused the kids is severe,” said one commenter. Another said, "I wish my dad would have handled it himself." Others professed, "I will never be a step-parent again.”
Seeing my experiences echoed in the comments was bittersweet, validating and highlighting the struggle many of us face in similar situations.
It’s been ten years and lots of therapy since that tumultuous relationship ended. Today, I understand why I was so entangled in that chaos.
A therapist identified my anxious attachment and toxic co-dependency. Thanks, trauma! My frantic efforts to secure my boyfriend's parental rights were more about trying to control the uncontrollable—my fears—than anything else. I harbored a delusional belief that if he could maintain his relationship with his child, find peace with his ex, and stay clean, we could live in blended family harmony. Life would be easy.
Excavating fantasies and fears helped me understand my behavior. Growing up, between the ages of eight and sixteen, I had a rotation of step-parents. My mom remarried two times, my dad three, and I felt like I had to play ally or enemy depending on who I was with. Though my parents tried, I didn’t feel safe.
Divorcing my ex-husband at the ripe age of twenty-four, my son was a three-year-old. Determined not to become my parents, I played nice with my ex and over-accommodated to keep the peace. I ended up becoming a doormat and missed opportunities to advocate for my kid - and he got hurt.
Reflecting on my actions, in my search for stability and safety, I did exactly what I feared: repeating the dynamic I grew up in and impacting the children involved.
By stepping out of that relationship and seeking help, I broke a lifelong cycle. It puts a spotlight on how crucial self-awareness, healing, and boundaries are, particularly for relationships where children are involved.
After all these years, looking back at the version of me who meticulously organized that three-ring binder, I see her in a new light. I learned that sometimes, the most profound act of love and support is recognizing our limits and respecting the autonomy of those we care about.
Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you're fighting harder than the other person? Or have you held back due to fear? Do you have a ‘binder’ story? I’d love to hear your insights and connect with others who can relate.
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