Anonymous

Inevitably when I share anything about being childless some well-meaning (although it doesn’t always feel well-meant) person points out that I have three stepsons.

I generally respond with a kind acknowledgement - yes, they are fantastic young men, aren’t they?! But really it twists the knife just a little bit deeper. I love those boys very much but it’s always clear that I am not their mother.

This stepmom doesn’t get acknowledged on Mother’s Day. No one calls on her birthday. No one reaches out when they are sad or confused or need something. There will be no special spot for me in graduations, weddings, and visits with future grandkids. And I’m fine with that. They’re great kids and I have a friendly, positive relationship with them. It’s just that since the beginning we have all been old enough to accept the truth - I’m not their mother.

So yes, I have stepchildren. Young men I quite like. Please don’t mistake that for the same thing as having children.

They have a mother and it isn’t me.

I have grief they are not responsible to make up for.

I can love all kinds of children and still feel sad. I carry these things in a delicate balance every day and such well-meaning comments do nothing but throw me off.

So when I say I am childless, just believe me. Believe in my grief as much as you believe in my ability to love the boys. Both things can be true, and both things most definitely are.

Photo by Jonatán Becerra on Unsplash