#TBT: I'm Not A Stepmom
(Author's note: This was first published in 2011. Years change but my heart doesn't. I am still a mom-mom.)
I’m not a stepmom. I consider stepmoms to be women who married a man knowing that he had children from a previous relationship. That term doesn’t define me or my situation. My husband did not have kids with another woman before we were married. My husband had a set of twins with another woman while we were married. (Go ahead and re-read the sentence. I know it’s a lot to digest. Better? Ok, let’s continue...) Here’s the synopsis: My husband had an affair, she became pregnant with twins, we decided to continue on with our marriage, our family dynamic was redefined, praise God for restoration and renewal. I’m not trivializing the hard work that has been put in to get to this point, but this article is not about the past. Like I said, that’s the synopsis. So that brings me back to my original statement: I’m not a stepmom. I didn’t knowingly marry a man with kids, therefore, the term does not fit me.
So what do I call myself? I’m a mom-mom. Yep, I made that term up. What exactly is a mom-mom? A mom-mom loves you in spite of the conditions surrounding your conception. A mom-mom recognizes that adult mistakes do not define your existence. A mom-mom welcomes you into her home as her child. A mom-mom believes that the mental, physical, and emotional health of all of the children involved is most important. A mom-mom wants generational curses to stop with her. A mom-mom is a woman that every weekend expands her family from 2 kids to 4 without batting an eye. A mom-mom prays. A mom-mom loves. I’m a mom-mom.
Women ask me if it’s hard being a mom-mom. Honestly, the kid part is easy. Being a good mother is something that I pride myself on. So loving two more children was the easy part. The hard part is actually dealing the people that try to negate you as a parent. I anticipated problems with the mistress, because let’s be honest – this is not the Will, Jada, and Sheree show. But when some members of the family – the very people you expect to be in your corner – tried to negate me as a parent, I was angry. Actually, I was livid. But what I had to come to realize, that I had other titles that were much more important to me than being called a “niece.” The titles that matter the most to me are “mom,” “wife”, and now, “mom-mom.”