She heaves for air, and her lungs burn. Her feet hit the pavement again and again as she runs down the street as fast as she can so she can catch the store before it closes. Her boyfriends kid has a headache and needs painkillers. They were empty at home, so she volunteered to run to the store which lies twenty minutes away by foot. She makes it in time, buys the medicine and exits the store, sweaty and worn out from the run. But she can’t take a break now, she doesn’t have time. So she pushes her body to run back home even though every muscle is screaming at her to stop, to take a breath.
Later, when she’s finally home, she figures out that her boyfriends kid was faking it. That her long run was all for nothing, that the kid was just pretending. Again.
She’s tired. The kind of tired that makes the bones inside your body ache, but still she pushes forward, drives the car. Carefully, because she’s got her boyfriends kids in the car, and she knows how much they are worth, to both him and herself. They promised the kids a vacation, and she’s the only one with a license, so she’s the only one who can drive. And she does, she drives for hours on end while the kids are being what they are best; kids. They sing in high pitched voices that could drive a monk to murder. They argue too, about the smallest thing imaginable, through the whole trip, driving her slowly but surely towards madness.
Still she drives carefully, never once complaining.
She stretches herself as high as her body will allow her, trying desperately to reach the damn sticker, stuck to the mirror. Her boyfriends eldest kid thought it would be funny to decorate the mirror with a sticker. She didn’t yell, she calmly told the kid that it wasn’t allowed to stick things to the mirror. That’s all, then she started the task of removing it. Trying desperately to peal it off without it leaving a mark. _________________________________________________
She does it all, she cooks, she cleans, she watches over them, tries to find activities they can do. She does everything in her power so her boyfriends kids have everything they need. And all she gets in return is a bad attitude.
She cries sometimes, wondering when they’re going to stop testing her, wondering when things will get better. Wondering when they will accept her, when they will understand that she loves them like her own. _________________________________________________
I was one of those kids. I tormented my poor stepmom for years, not with something dramatic, but small things that have a tendency to become big with time. A comment here and there, a small jab, everything I could come up with. I thought I hated her, I really did. He was my dad first, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take him from me. Least of all her. I thought I would loose my father if I accepted her, and I was petrified that she’d be one of those evil step moms you hear about in fairytales. I wanted her to go, and I did everything to make her life miserable, hoping that she’d disappear.
Because as it turns out; my step mom is steady as a mountain, and a fighter that never wavers. She took all the crap sent her way and stuck by my father and us, even though I gave her every reason to run the other way. Even after I repeatedly displayed my dislike of her being there. Very openly, I might add.
Now, I couldn’t be more thankful for her, because after I got to really know her, I knew she was the only one that could ever be good enough for my dad. Now, I can’t imagine a life without her. I can’t imagine where I’d be without her guidance and her unconditional love. She was there when I was at my lowest, sitting patiently by my side, gluing me back together piece by piece like a broke vase. She’s there when I cry, wrapping me tightly in her warm embrace. She’s there offering a helping hand whenever I stumble in life, then after heaving me up she pushes me forward again.
She’s the mom I never really had growing up. She’s everything. And I wouldn’t have had the relationship I have with her today if I hadn’t given her a chance. I would never have known what it’s like to have a real mom if I hadn’t let her in. Because even if she’s not related to me by blood I still see her for what she has become to me;
A real mom.
Quote of the day; “A step parent is so much more than just a parent; they made the choice to love you when they didn’t have to”