Wicked by Necessity: How Step-Parenting Shaped the Way I Write

Being a step-parent is one of the hardest things you can ever do because you are investing a large part of yourself into people and situations where you mean nothing and have no business being in. And the closer you get to the kids, the more they look up to you or rely on you, the harder and more viscous the parents get.

And, let’s be real for a second. Parents going through divorce are terrible parents. I was one of those, too. We’re terrible not because we don’t love our kids. We do. Sometimes. Most times. Until they’re thirteen, then it’s about 36% of the time. Tops. No. The reason we divorce parent suck at parenting is because of the politics that divorce adds to the whole situation.

This article was spawned for two reasons. First, my failed and failing attempts at parenting shapes my writing in so many ways. The way I see characters. The way I present them on paper. How I try to capture not only their emotions, but what the other person is feeling too. Now, my main character might not see the reactions at the time, but I try to capture them anyway for those of us who do, who have been on the other side and can see the impact of our actions.

But the other part is that my heart hurts because I’m coming up on what might be the end of my step-parenting role. This reality is something I’ve been mentally bracing for since I said, “Okay, assholes. I’ll be your wicked freakin’ step-mother.”

Love Transactions

I hate love transactions in divorce. I mean, I hate them so much that my husband thinks I hate them in real life, when in reality, I’d love for him to buy me flowers every once in a while. I mean, come on. If he would like a little somethin’-somethin’, he could add a little spice. Flowers are lovely.

But after we met, the first thing I did—after I cleaned his apartment—was to stop him from purchasing the kids’ affection. It was this competition between him and his ex-wife, Queen Prickle—which is the nicest thing I can call her right now. I’m so pissed. She would get Xcess Wonderful a new toy and then Xcess Wonderful wouldn’t do anything Shane told her to for days afterward because Mom loved her more and needed her more. That was until Shane got her a new purse. And then Xcess Wonderful wouldn’t do anything Queen Prickle asked her to do because Dad loved her more and needed her more. Until Queen Prickle bought her a new pair of shoes. This would go on and on and… these two were already broke. They couldn’t afford to play this game.

Understand, he has two kids—Xcess Wonderful and MusicRules—but Xcess Wonderful saw the situation and has continually used it to her advantage painfully, whereas MusicRules… is quieter and gentler about it. The sting is less severe and gets me less angry. Also… Xcess Wonderful is very much like me when I was a kid, I think. I don’t know. But my mother—Couch Kraken—and I have a very combative relationship as well. Some of the things Xcess Wonderful does sets me off because I’m like, “Well, that’s the reason my mother was such a raging cunt.” But no. That still doesn’t excuse what she’s continuing to be. But that’s a different article. Oh. Maybe I could do a series on different villains. Oh. Okay. Anyway. I digress.

I knew what I was seeing because I’d fallen into this trap with my own kids when I was trying to move out of my mother’s house with my kids. There was no way I could compete with my mother, though. She had a husband who was getting paid as a man with experience, which was a lot more than I was getting paid as a woman with less experience. Heck, I’m a project manager now and he was still paid more then than I am now. At that time, I was giving my mother half my paycheck every week to support the kids. So, with all that financial backing, she won all the time. And yet, she still “couldn’t afford” a lot of extras. Divorce politics are real.  

That’s where Shane was falling. He couldn’t compete with the woman who was taking half of his money. So, his two kids were just running ramshod right over him. And he was letting them. He was wracked with guilt—because he didn’t cheat on Queen Prickle? I don’t know. That woman is amazing with a guilt trip. She takes all the blame she should be shouldering, and throws it onto other people, and they’re just like, “Yeah. I’m supposed to carry that.” I know. She’s done it to me, too, and she and I barely speak.

Enforcing Rule of Law

When both parents are busy trying to be the cool parent, they let rules slide. Why? Because the kid—again, this is Xcess Wonderful—spins a tale about how responsibility is so hard, and they’re super stressed and just can’t handle anything more than getting out of bed when they want to and doing what they want to do. Divorce kids are monsters. They’re fucking monsters.  

And the parents buy into this! I did with my two kids. Shane and Queen Prickle fell for it hook, line, and sinker with Xcess Wonderful. Xcess Wonderful plays them like fiddles! Whenever she needs anything, all she has to do is pit Queen Prickle against me, and boom! She’s got new toys, new clothes, new gauges for her ears, a new phone. Jesus Christ, that should-have-been-a-ten-minute-conversation is still going. And now they’re talking custody and child support. It was just a fucking phone.

So, while Shane and Queen Prickle were being run like slaves to some princess of absolute wonderfulness, I made the rules and enforced them without a lick of authority except they were living in my home. I had landlord rights. That’s all I had. But I also enforced them. And boy, let me tell you, I had to get creative because you can’t touch a Divorce Kid. Because, shit, if the opposing parent or the “protective” parent finds out, you’re in for weeks of Hell. FFS, years! I also live with my nephew and niece who are divorce kids. I’m not the opposing parent, but their mom—SistaWitch—is a Momma Bear. And let me tell you. You cannot say a single bad thing about either one of them. They’re assholes just like everyone else, but you sure can’t say that out loud. Bear Parents come in all forms and for various reasons. It’s not just the opposing parent.

Being the Villain

I used to think I knew villains. I thought I knew their purpose in life, what place they had in society, and what needed to happen to each and every single one of them. And, let me tell you, I thought I had a pretty keen take on them in fiction.

Until I realized that I’m a villain.

Oh, yeah. I’m a villain to a lot of people. Queen Prickle. My mother, aka Couch Kraken. SistaWitch—though, I really wish I’d stop being her villain, but I seem to be just by breathing. Xcess Wonderful. Princess Serial Killer—that’s one of my nieces. When she was two, I think, I said, “That kid is going to murder someone and then sleep happy.” I think it’s still valid. Princess Unicorn. Miss Invisible—my oldest child—and Miss Trying—my youngest child. Prince Scream. Sir Stomp. Mr. Weed.

The list is long.

Back on track—last year, when I made this connection, I owned it. I was just like, “Yeah. That’s me. When Xcess Wonderful tells me she hates me, I’ll just brush it off, thank her, wear that hate like a badge of honor on my chest, and watch her grow in spite of me.

And it worked.

Until she broke her phone, which isn’t a big deal. I thought, “Great. This is a great time to teach her all the thought processes that go into getting a new phone because… it’s not magic. It takes money and thought.”

But she said, “I’m really anxious because I don’t want to get yelled at.”

And I realized about an hour after that was said, and several informational texts were sent to her, that we weren’t having an almost-adult conversation which should have taken ten minutes. “Hey, this is how much is still owed on your phone. This is how much it costs to replace it. This is what it takes to upgrade it. Okay. This is what it costs per month if we do that. What do you want to do?” Then, the decision would be made, and she’d have a new phone. Easy.

Nope. I was about to bear the consequences of her lies and deception.

Because Xcess Wonderful needed new name brand clothes when she went to see her mom, which I won’t buy her. And she needed name brand shoes, which… if they’re on sale and they’re comfortable, I’ll get, but otherwise, no. And she needed new gauges. And new widgets. And connection with her mom who can only exist if others don’t. And… a new phone.

So, the entire time she was “having a good time with her mom,” she was telling stories of what a terrible parent I was, and how I was overstepping my boundaries as a nothing who had no business being in her life.

Having No Value

The suck thing about being a woman in construction management is that I bring no value anyone values.

The suck thing about my skill sets in Alaska is that I bring no value anyone values.

The suck thing about being a step-parent who is the responsible one, making sure everyone has insurance, doctor’s appointments, food—though, thank you SitaWitch who made that a ton easier, and Shane who buys the occassional meal—clothes, roof, school, events, calendars, rides, coordination of needs…

When the kids decide they don’t need you anymore because you were never fun, or that your rules are too stressful because you make them get out of bed and do things, they weaponize everything you did.

So, I’ve got a kid living in my home who doesn’t have to clean her (Xcess Wonderful is gender fluid, which is the reason why their pronouns are, too) room or do anything she doesn’t want to because Queen Prickle thinks that rules are hard, that childhood should be a treasured and delicate thing, and that the step-parent who has no business being a part of the kids’ lives is a monster who now terrifies her.

Do I Fight Or Reclaim My Energy?

The reality is that I had no business stepping into their lives. I had no business caring about those two kids. I had no business helping. I had no business paying for… anything. It healed that part of me who lost her own daughters, but it’s tearing new wounds.

Through this, I discovered that the world needs villains, people who are willing to do what they’re not supposed to, to challenge those who need to grow. Without villains, the world doesn’t change and people just find the couch and stay there. Not like Couch Kraken or Jabba the Hut who can be villains while remaining on the couch.

But I think I’m tired. Being their parent was a choice. For nearly ten years, I chose them. I chose to fight for them. I chose to fight them. I chose to help them, guide them, be with them.

But now, I think it’s time to choose to reclaim my space, my energy, my time, my finances, and let their parents duke it out. I have no standing, and neither of those two kids will choose me. I’m not someone people keep. I’m someone they outgrow.

I think Queen Prickle won. Her children have outgrown me. I could try being the fun person, but… I have no idea how to do that. I’ve been the responsible person for decades.

Being the step-parent gives you different perspectives on how people work. It’s why I write villains with nuance. Not because I love evil, but because I’ve lived in the role of someone misunderstood, discarded, or feared for doing what needed to be done. While I’m going to reclaim my own space and energy, I’m going to continue writing villains in the way that makes sense to me.