Bath of Fire

The second edition of self-actualization came when I started to assume the role of a stepfather.  It was a role that I had no experience in because I had no biological children of my own.  In a sense it was a bath by fire and pardon the pun but I did get burned on more than one occasion.  Being a step parent helped me to become more of a full person rather than just a single man that traipsed through women’s lives without much more positive regard for them than I had for myself. I lived a selfish existence and my life was all about me. How could I be successful in business and have fun was my mantra. I gave little thought to bringing meaningful contributions to another or significant others.  As long as I was happy, I hoped that the woman I was infatuated with was reasonably happy as well but only if she could satisfy my own personal and physical as well as emotional needs shallow as they might be.   

Some Things are Better Left Unsaid

A Hall and Oates song with that title is my reference for today’s entry.  It might be a cliché but when we refrain from something being said to someone because we think it’s already understood, or it might be too painful to state verbally or it might be something that may or may not be true we refrain from saying anything because it might start an argument or it might hurt someone’s feelings. These are all reasons good reasons we tell ourselves to keep our mouths shut. 

But what about those times when it’s just imperative we do say something?  Simple things like asking my stepson to take out the garbage because he’s dressed instead of hoping he’s reading my mind and will remember to take it out by himself.  Then to a more delicate subjects like money, like does he have any? Or what might be going on in his personal life that he feels he can share.  Or when your stepdaughter didn’t get that promotion or she broke up with her beau?  We can arrive at these questions not by asking them directly but by asking simply if there is anything I can help you with?  Or a deeper query if there was something I could help you with but felt funny in asking about what would it is?

The Hand of Fate

When I became a step parent I was not given a handbook or even a flyer as to how I should behave but I thought since I was a reasonably intelligent man that I would be able to somehow muddle through. Truth be told I never really gave much thought to it when I married their mother because I just thought she would do the parenting and I would essentially stay out of her family decisions unless it had some direct bearing on our lives together. I in fact remember having the courage to tell my stepson this very thing in one of our first man-to-man conversations. I told him that I would not interfere in his life with his mother as it pertained to their relationship but if it affected my relationship with his mother then I would have something to say. At first I thought I wouldn’t have much to do on this agenda and again I was ashamed to say that I had no idea what real family dynamics were all about. In the first few years of my step-dad duties it was only my son that came under my stewardship and when the first real challenge set in: getting him up everyday for school it became distinctly apparent that I had to get involved and it was during this four year ordeal that I realized how much I loved my stepson even though I spent much of this time resenting him and doling out generous amounts of silent scorn.

The Savior

Now I do not unfortunately have any biological children of my own but I am blessed with three stepchildren. Mine is a story of perceived self-efficacy that I had the capabilities of being not only a good stepfather but I thought I would be a great stepfather. I observed their biological father and his alleged deficiencies and thought to myself: hell this will be easy and not only easy but child’s play. I could not have been more mistaken and in the first year I suffered a major blow to my own personal agency and self esteem because the hangover that my stepchildren felt from their broken family left no room at least initially for a savior which is the role I auditioned for and the part I thought I was chosen to star in.

The Step-Daughter

The main ingredient that put salt in my wounds was my middle stepdaughter. She from the start challenged my way of thinking because she only thought of herself, or so I thought. In the end she was busy dutifully fulfilling her dreams of making her own life and she was determined that she was going to live it her way in spite of me or despite me. What she made me realize is that I could never replace her father no matter how much she disliked his behaviors at times. The net result was that she began to love me silently at first but as time passed she showed her affirmation toward me when Fathers Day came one year and the card she sent made my heart stop and it was then that I realized that I didn’t have to be anything more than what I was her mother’s second husband and for that revelation I will always be grateful to her.

A Change of Heart

I came out of my hypnotic trance about a week ago. It turns out that I had started that construction company’s operation up again. You know the one that builds resentments on three floors and is fully furnished? My stepson and his bride who live with us had me burning inside about every little thing humans do and that I can find fault in.

I started to realize that my heart was sick because I can’t feel love when I am resentful and there are so many things that I love about my stepson that I sometimes forget that he can’t read my mind and submit to my unreasonable demands. So, I had a change of heart, and love makes resentment disappear down the drain it belongs in.

The High Hurdles

I am getting used to the hurdles in my path and I have been complaining about them for quite some time to no avail. I came to the realization that this tact does not work. I knew it didn’t but I seemed to want to cling to it for some ungodly reason, I guess I thought it would soften the blow of just how uncomfortable I feel. Well it has not and instead I am taking the route of acceptance and leaving the minutiae of my family’s behavior totally to themselves. This lessens my responsibility greatly. I will no longer allow the challenge of my stepchildren to weigh upon me psychologically or financially. It serves no purpose other than to have me worry about some projection that has no clear image. I will spend this time loving them and it will release more time for my own creativity as how to make the best of the times I find myself in. Oh the hurdles they’re still there but the track is clearing at the far turn.

The Wheelhouse

Hey dad do you know what we’re going through? You’re not around as much and you’ve left me in the wheelhouse and I have to steer a lot on my watch. Your charges, sired by you will most assuredly love you much more than they could me although I do hear whispers that they don’t like you much at times.

What’s my point? Simply this: in view of the fact for the most part you’ve dropped out of daily sight, do me a favor will you? Don’t be just a guest host in your children’s lives because I need a vacation too! And I will even let you steer.

Step Daddy-O

As a Step-Dad have you tried to be cool with your stepchildren? Oh boy! You have this step-parenting thing all figured out don’t you? You won’t try to be a father figure because you are not tied by bloodlines. So you think that if I try to be cool in their eyes instead they will like you better. After all they have had enough discipline in their lives, or so you think. This jocular attitude can certainly work some of the time but it can be severely lacking most of the time. They’re not counting on you for their levity; they get that from their friends.

I know it’s easier to take this tact as well because you ask yourself how am I to fit in to this blended family. You certainly don’t want to hear the dreaded: “You’re not my father”. Here’s a hint though that’s better than being Daddy-O because if they say that at least they are giving you consideration that you are a father figure to them not a clown which is the easier softer way.

Fenced Off

Whether they are visible or invisible we all have fences we have erected along our perimeter.

I used to try to climb over or open the gates that my loved ones constructed around themselves. What I was to discover that I was not wanted on that strip of property. It was difficult to learn this lesson because as a male it was inbred that I try to ‘fix’ whatever ailed those closest to me. It showed I cared and I thought that it came from good intention. But good intention can easily go awry, because no matter how soft the language or quiet the action, I was often rebuffed. So instead of feeling closer I moved further away, so far away that I turned a dear ear to what I thought I should be listening to. There needed to be a balance between caring that wasn’t wanted and caring that was needed.

When I tried to determine where I could position myself around this fence I found out that knowing was not through trial and error. It was not how I was reacted to, but rather this determination had to come from my interior not their exterior. I knew that I could not control people places and things, so I had to digest viscerally where I needed to be myself first. What did that mean though? How could I know where I needed to be? I never paid attention to it before, so how could I recognize it? That realization came when I took care of my own feelings first, and then my family showed me quite clearly where and when they wanted me.

My Father at 81

What have I learned most recently? Have you an aging parent with short
term memory tremors? Well I have! It can be most disconcerting. It can
be a painful experience on a couple of levels. One is obvious where you
have to listen to the same conversation and questions over and over.
You can find yourself losing your patience and tolerance. Anger is the
other by-product followed by guilt that you actually got angry. But I
think I have found a method to circumvent a big chunk of upset. What I
do is first track what the questions and stories are and commit them to
memory. Next I repeat the same questions give the same answers in well
paced intervals, before my dad has a chance to ask them again. I now
empty my negativity toward him, and give him what he needs by re
enforcing what his memory is lacking. Now I am free from impatience and
intolerance and best of all anger and guilt. This now makes my visit a
positive one; I can spend more time with him and spend more time with
his long-term memory, which seems intact. I now learn things I never
knew and I can rediscover a deeper love for my father. A parlor trick
maybe but an effective one. Now maybe there is a seed here to use with
some permutations in my everyday relationships.