5 Moments I Own as Their Stepmom

Not that ownership is needed, but it helps me cope as I near the empty nest.

Sep 11, 2024

nest on tree — Photo by Robert Thiemann on Unsplash

Waite and Gallagher define empty-nesting as the phase when children leave the parental home, leading to changes in family structure. To a stepmother, the reasons for being an empty-nester may be more than a child going off to college or getting married to start a family. Other reasons may be (1) custody changes, (2) early independence of children, (3) estranged relationships, (4) blended family reconfigurations and (5) going back to their biological roots.

Empty-nesters transition to another phase of life where redefining identities and relationships are made possible. Parents usually find other sources of fulfillment as the children fly out into the world, knowing that one day, they will be home once again.

For a stepmother, being an empty nester may mean grieving the role especially when there is uncertainty about whether the stepchildren will ever come back. Or if they do come back, she knows it is never going to be the same.

And that is okay because such is a stepmother’s life.

To cope, I hold on to what I have. The little moments that I will always hold in my heart.

My stepson’s smile when he made it to military school.

I will always remember his joyful grin. It was a single moment of accomplishment that I was the closest witness to his pride.

My stepson’s whisper when he said, “Please stay beside me.”

He usually kept to himself but when he came home after being hazed at military school, he said this. I sat beside him and he placed his head on my lap and just slept.

My stepdaughter’s first broken heart.

Do you still remember your first heartbreak? My stepdaughter called me, to pick her up from university after she broke it off with her boyfriend. As I approached her college dorm, I saw her puffy face, holding her backpack, all ready to just go home. We had tacos before going home. On the drive back home, I could feel her heavy heart. I was honored she shared that with me.

My other stepdaughter escaped through our home window, to go out on a date with a person she is forbidden to see.

Well, in all fairness, her dad and I forbade her to see this person, ten years her senior as she was only fifteen. It was a complicated case. I was witness to her naughtiness, all too feisty to do what she wanted, believing she knew what she was doing. Our fights were one helluvah memory too. It came with pain. But it was mine.

My own son created a “welcome back” poster for his elder sisters when they came home from their biological mom’s home.

Every time I am running out of patience with the children, I remember how my own son just naturally loves his siblings and I go back to my resolve to do better as a stepparent. It almost always works.

I like looking back at these simple memories, calling them “mine.” It helps me honor the time and love I have given, in the hope that this love will always be strong enough to lead us back to each other, no matter where life takes us.