I have been in a “blended” family for about 10 years now. I think the idea of “blended” is a bit of a misnomer. It suggests a certain fluidity, a certain smoothness, a certain coming together as one that has never quite characterized my family. The unit I’ve created with my partner and children has always felt so disrupted, so cobbled together, so ill-fitted that it has, in many ways, been a source of angst and even pain for me. The children really struggled with the divorce, I think, much more than they let on at 3 and 9, much more than they were even aware. Much more than I even had the capacity to address, had I even been able to apprehend it. Of course they struggled with my partnering with someone else, as you might well imagine. I think that the struggle was not only about the fact of the split between their dad and me but also about the significant differences between their dad and their stepdad. Very different kinds of men altogether. And, as anyone who studies relationships or identity development or human interaction will affirm, our “selves” emerge in interaction with other people. I was different with their stepdad than I was with their dad. And I’m sure I was a different mom too. On some occasions that worked in ways they liked, and on others it worked in ways they didn’t. But it was tricky all around. For everybody. MORE
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