There are some things you just shouldn't say out loud. For example: «I don't like my stepchildren.» You shouldn't even think such things; I tell myself not to as soon as the thought crosses my mind.
I only see my partner's children during the school holidays, just like him, as they live with their mother – an eight-hour drive away from us. And instead of looking forward to the holidays, I find myself tossing and turning in bed the nights before. Not a spark of excitement, just a knot in my stomach: will we manage to get through it without an argument this time ?
I feel no love, no affection when my partner's children walk into the room. Just tension and resistance.
We spend half of all the school holidays together: my partner, his 15-year-old son, his 10-year-old daughter, my three school-age children and I. After we tried spending a holiday week at our place once and the arguments got completely out of hand, we opted for the lesser of two evils. Now we go away every time.
Am I the wicked stepmother?
We still argue, though – and it's usually my partner and I who are at loggerheads. Our time together is anything but warm and friendly. We try to get through it without too much damage, but neither of us feels entirely at ease. My children don't like his children, his children don't like me or my children – and I don't like his children either.
At the same time, I'm plagued by a guilty conscience: they are my partner's children, after all – shouldn't I like them? Mustn't I? I can't mess this up now, the little time they have together. Surely I can hold back for a few days; after all, I'm the adult.
So should I just grit my teeth for the sake of keeping the peace? So as not to put a strain on the little time my partner has with his children? But no matter how hard I try, I feel no love, no affection when they walk into the room. Just tension, resistance. Am I some sort of wicked stepmother, like the ones in old fairy tales? Who would want that?
There is no obligation to love
I ring Katharina Grünewald. The psychologist has written the book *Happy Patchwork Couples*. She reassures me: there's no obligation to love someone just because they're your partner's children. Grünewald compares it to work: after all, you don't find all your colleagues equally likeable there either. And you don't have to. Nevertheless, you treat each other with a degree of politeness.
But within the family, it's often much more difficult: «You automatically assume that you have to love your partner's children just as much as you love your partner, and that you mustn't speak ill of them – after all, they're part of him.»
It really annoys me how, in everything they do, they seem to be saying: «You've got no say in this!»
Other experts take a similar view – and also give the all-clear. All you need to do is get on with one another; that's all there is to it. Ideally, without any pressure at all, say psychotherapist Claudia Starke and Thomas Hess, a specialist in child and adolescent psychiatry, the authors of the book *The Patchwork Book: How Two Families Grow Together*. «Pressure is the ultimate love killer,» warns Claudia Starke.
Getting by sounds so easy – but not putting yourself under pressure is so damn hard.
All the things that annoy me
When I'm fed up with her rudeness yet again. When I try to talk to the older one about his hobby, playing the violin, and he simply ignores me, not saying a word. Annoyed by how the little one monopolises her father, climbing all over his lap and not giving either of us a moment's peace, immediately squeezing in between us whenever we hug or even just hold hands.
I'm fed up with the way they test his limits and take advantage of the fact that he doesn't dare tell them off when they eat all the sweets without asking, leaving none for the rest of us.
It's hard to bear the way he spoils them , buying them everything they want – even their hundredth soft toy – and they don't even say thank you. And it drives me absolutely mad how, in everything they do, they seem to be saying: «You've got no say in this!»
When I ask my eldest not to take up the whole sofa so that someone else can sit there too, and he just gives me a defiant look, I feel nothing but utter rejection.
The patchwork construction
«It's not down to you, it's not down to the children, it's down to the structure,» says patchwork family expert Katharina Grünewald. Unlike in a nuclear family, where everyone has their set roles and everyone knows the rules, in a patchwork family roles and rules have to be renegotiated time and again; the old rules of the nuclear family no longer apply.
That is why it is a good idea to talk regularly about what matters to each individual. Take breakfast during the holidays, for example: do we all want to eat together? What is important to us, and how can we be considerate of one another? Hess and Starke also advise that involving all the children in planning what is going to be done, when and with whom, is good for team spirit.
It's something we've tried several times already. My husband's children couldn't care less; they don't seem to be interested in anything to do with us anyway. My children, who live with my boyfriend and me and don't see their father very often, are aged between 8 and 15. Their needs vary widely – due to the age gap. If it were up to them, they would only go on holiday with me and my boyfriend – without «the other children».
Unrealistic expectations
But that's no big deal, I hear the expert say. Excuse me? The first thing I should let go of, she says, is the expectation that time spent together must be conflict-free. «Behind this lies the expectation that time spent together is only enjoyable if everyone gets on well and is constantly together,» says Grünewald. If you try to avoid something at all costs, it usually strikes with particular force.
That sounds familiar. I hold it together for as long as possible, smile away my annoyance and bite my tongue to stop myself from saying anything, so as not to come across as a killjoy. Until I explode, usually over something trivial like grumbling about the walk. «You always have to freak out like that!» my partner then accuses me – unaware of just how much I've already been bottling up.
Self-care is so important. Because you can only manage difficult relationships if you're in a good place yourself.
Children facing a conflict of loyalty
But how do I deal with the rejection I face from his children? It drives me mad when they once again make it abundantly clear how stupid they think I am and that they'd much rather be somewhere else entirely. Stark and Hess appeal to my understanding.
The children are caught in a conflict of loyalty; they side with their mother, who, as I know, rejects me and unconsciously makes them feel they have to think our time together is rubbish. For the children, it would feel like a betrayal if they were to enjoy their time with me.
That is why you shouldn't try to act as a «new family» or take on the role of a surrogate mother. They also advise against always wanting to do everything together, and recommend creating one-to-one situations with your own children as well.
That's a relief. Up until now, my partner has always wanted us to do everything together – just like a proper family. I, on the other hand, like to spend time just with my children – or on my own – even when we're on holiday together. Until now, I haven't dared to ask for that.
Self-care – or how to stay in the green
All three experts advise me in unison that I should do this as a matter of urgency. «The only needs that tend to be overlooked in a blended family are usually those of the stepmother.» That is why self-care is so important, because only when you've got yourself into a good place can you manage difficult relationships.
Telling yourself that you simply have to pull yourself together for the short duration of the holidays is the wrong approach: «It's like holding your breath – you can't keep it up in the long run.» If you regularly push yourself beyond your limits, this is one of the reasons for the inner resistance you feel towards a situation you didn't choose for yourself.
«You're allowed to say, «I'm going out tonight, make your own dinner, you'll be fine,»» Claudia Starke encourages me. Being honest about your feelings can, not least, improve your relationship with your children.
«Children can sense when someone is annoyed,» says Thomas Hess. When dealing with stepchildren, he suggests it is helpful to keep asking yourself: What exactly is it about this behaviour that I don't like? You then realise that it is not the person themselves you dislike, but their behaviour.
Keep the conversation going with your partner
But how honest should I be with my partner? Nobody likes to be told that their own children are getting on their nerves. I don't want to hurt my partner's feelings, but of course he can sense my tension. When asked directly, «You really can't stand them, can you?», I dodge the question.
His poor relationship with his children is also putting a strain on his relationship with my partner.
Not a good idea, says Thomas Hess. He advises focusing your criticism on the children's behaviour – in other words, saying that you don't approve of a particular behaviour, ideally using «I» statements and giving a clear example: «I feel left out when they share inside jokes with you.» Or: «It hurts me when they keep making me feel that I have no say in matters.»
How to ensure your relationship doesn't take a back seat
His poor relationship with his children is also putting a strain on my relationship with my partner. When we argue, it's almost always about his children. Starke and Hess say that this is typical, too. I miss the man I actually know when his children are around, because I don't like the role he slips into then. Not to mention the fact that I miss having moments just the two of us.
«You shouldn't just put up with that,» advises Grünewald. You should make a conscious effort to set aside time for the two of you, even when all the children are around: «This benefits the stepchildren too, not least because it shows them that a loving relationship needs time and space. How else are they supposed to build a relationship of their own later on?»
To foster mutual understanding, she recommends a partner exercise in which both partners take the other's perspective: How is my partner feeling? How is he doing, how is she doing? It helps to speak about oneself in the third person: «So your children are coming and your wife is in such a bad mood? And then she wants to bail on the trip as well? I can sense your anger that she can't even pull herself together for a week.»
Recognising different needs
Mutual understanding is the key, it seems to me. When I try to put myself in my stepchildren's shoes, I begin to understand why they're so distant towards me. And I begin to understand the pressure my partner is under. But I'd also like to see more understanding shown towards me and my children, because they're simply caught up in this complicated situation during the holidays.
To do that, I need to communicate my needs more clearly . Setting boundaries is even more important in blended families than it is in any other situation. Nobody has to like their stepchildren, let alone love them; respect and acknowledging their different needs are enough. I don't love my stepchildren, but I'm starting to understand them. That's a start, at least.
*The author prefers to remain anonymous in this case. She has written for *Fritz+Fränzi* on several occasions and lives in Germany with her blended family.
