My parents are finally getting divorced. So why do I feel like my stepdad’s feelings are still my problem?

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Dear Hera

My parents recently announced their separation. This in itself isn’t a problem. I’ve already gone through this once before in my early childhood, so I like to think I’m an old hat at balancing parental feelings with my own. Learning how to juggle inter and intra-parental feelings when you’ve not yet hit double digits isn’t necessarily something I’d wish on anyone, but it does teach a certain set of skills. 

Unfortunately, one of those skills is putting other people’s feelings above my own. My whole life, my own kindness has hurt me in some way or other. I remember telling myself I could never come out to my mum because, while I knew she’d accept me, I couldn’t stand the thought that she might leave my stepdad if he didn’t.  

Without airing all the details, what started as a pretty amicable separation has turned decidedly acrimonious. I don’t have any respect left for my stepdad. It doesn’t help that it’s only in the last few years that I’ve made myself come to terms with having him in my life forever. Now to find out that it was all for nothing. 

In short, on top of the homophobia (which has improved), he is quick to anger and while never physically abusive, definitely verbally so. He is despicably racist. He has made remarks about my body that make me feel uncomfortable and hurt. But because he was always going to be around, I made myself see the good in him. 

Now the rose-tinted glasses are coming off. He clearly still wants a relationship with me. The rational, self-serving part of my brain doesn’t want that. But this other massive part of me feels like I need to hold his feelings. 

I’m sick of talking about this with everyone in my life because I keep going round in circles and I know it’s frustrating for them to tell me to ‘do what feels right’ again and again. 

What do I do? How can I reconcile these two sides of me and not feel like I’m abandoning a duty by leaving him with hurt feelings?

In need of some hard truths,

Former Stepdaughter

Dear Former Stepdaughter,

If you want hard truths, you’ve come to the wrong place. I prefer my truths to have the luxuriant yield of a caramel dog laxative. But I’ll try my best…

First of all, let’s look on the bright side. Take a moment to appreciate the freedom of never again having to trot this unpleasant specimen out at family gatherings and birthday barbecues. Usually, I’m loath to tell people to cut contact with family members unless they feel very strongly it’s the right decision. But if you can’t break ties with your homophobic, racist, verbally abusive stepfather while he’s acrimoniously divorcing your own mother, when can you pull the plug? 

I understand where you’re coming from. You’ve worked hard to build up a solid reserve of empathy for someone you assumed would be a part of your life forever. Those hard-won feelings don’t just disappear in a puff of smoke, even if your relationship was complicated. 

I don’t know if I’d describe this as a kindness problem. I would describe this as a niceness problem. Niceness is about striving hard to be agreeable and polite, at all costs. Niceness doesn’t take sides or tell difficult truths. Niceness puts on its powder blue gloves and dusts the pianola. Kindness, on the other hand, isn’t averse to flipping a few tables, when a little table flipping is in order. 

I’m not knocking niceness. Niceness is often the most practical and sane way to deal with people we don’t like but are forced to interact with for reasons beyond our control. The good news is you no longer have any such obligation. 

You say that you never came out to your mum, because you knew your stepfather’s reaction would damage their relationship. But it sounds like your mum would have stood up for you. Were you really doing her a kindness, by not trusting her with that information, or were you simply trying to keep the peace at all costs? Either way, it was an impossible choice for a young person in a vulnerable position to have to make. But you no longer have to play Model UN. Now that your mother is single, you can work towards building a more genuine relationship with her that doesn’t revolve around managing your stepfather’s temper. I imagine your mum has some regrets about the environment you grew up in. Don’t spare her feelings. This time around, you can afford to be honest. 

As for your stepfather, I feel like you’re unnecessarily torturing yourself. You say you’ve been “going round in circles” but what’s the hurry? It sounds to me like you would prefer not to have a close relationship with him, but don’t want to hurt his feelings by cutting him off completely, because on some level you still care about him, despite his horrible personality. The reality is, you can probably get what you want without having to take any action. There’s no need to have an explosive confrontation where you enumerate his every fault. A little weaponised apathy will do the job for you. You can simply begin to strategically dial back your contact until you reach a threshold that feels comfortable for you.

Stop replying to all of his messages. Let time do some of the heavy lifting for you. If he’s pushing for a relationship you’re not willing to have, tell him the divorce has been rough and you need some space to process the situation. You can even do it nicely, if it makes you feel better.

What I’m saying is this is not a problem that you have to solve. Many of your major life decisions have revolved around managing this guy’s feelings, and it sounds like you’re still stuck in “damage control” mode, even though the final bell has rung, and class has been dismissed. 

What if the most radical thing you could do, was to simply stop giving a shit? Give yourself time to adjust to your new reality. Go and see Gladiator II. Take a mental holiday from worrying about this grown man, who is responsible for his own decisions and actions.

It sounds like you’ve been shouldering the moral weight of a problem that should never have been yours to begin with, and now that it’s over, you don’t know how to let go. 

I don’t know how to tell you to let it go. But if I were you, I would begin slowly, at the back of the cinema, with a family-sized box of popcorn.