And you know, we did, but she learned to wash dishes, cook, do laundry, clean the house, including general cleaning, and got a job even before she graduated from school.
This is how we dealt with children's psychos. It was hard, but we managed.
Well, now, with less pathos and narcissism, I’ll tell you how it was.
Imagine a child whose parents spent every day sorting things out throughout his childhood, and then his father simply left. Mother's tears, periodic hysterics. The father gave free rein, the mother forbade. The child did not understand what model of behavior to take for himself.
Then a girl appeared who took all of her father’s attention, and I had to install a whole mountain of behavior patterns for different people and situations. Tears worked best, especially for grandmothers, because they influenced their parents.
“One was unyielding — Margot. Tears did not stop her. She was just communicating. Strange.
And everything would be fine if her father did not take her side in disagreements. I want to go to the water park, she says “no”, my father says “no”. I want a Coca-Cola, she refuses, and so does my father.
And everything is explained logically, but that’s what I want. Margot says, vacuum the apartment, but I don’t want to, my father is right there. My father doesn't love me, and Margot is a strange creature. Why is she in our lives?
This is roughly what the child thought, and from this position I had to influence and raise someone else’s child.
What happened.
First I found out about his first love. This is a slightly different story, but fits well into this story.
While still in Petrozavodsk, when we first plunged into intimate chaos, lighting a cigarette after this embarrassment, we touched on a very deep topic.
— I have to confess something to you.
— Yes.
— Don't be so tense. I just don't want to keep anything secret from you.
— Fine.
— I saw my former love in Krasnodar. Drank. And once again he confessed his love to her. But she's married. And I lost her a long time ago, even before marriage. But this time we sat on a bench near the house and discussed everything once and for all. We have a happy ending with her. There will be nothing more. No tears, snotty speeches, torment or memories. We ended everything on a happy note. It's a great ending when she's married and I found a good girl. Our paths diverge completely and irrevocably.
— You don't love her anymore?
— No. We have a happy ending. I decided.
Like a stone from the soul. Then he told me how throughout his married life with the mother of his child, he loved his school friend. They even saw each other, and every time he got drunk, the marriage was falling apart at the seams precisely because of this girl.
Why is this story here? Here's why.
Many stepmothers have conflicts with poor children of previous marriages because they are reminded of their husband’s past. About how he loved the mother of this child. There, jealousy of the child himself is not far away.
I found out a piquant detail for myself, which I clung to like a life preserver, because before I was very jealous, skillfully hid it, but inside I was all shrinking into a hedgehog.
No matter how much Katerina reminded me of my lover’s ex-wife, I did not feel the least bit of jealousy. Of course, there was something between them, and perhaps it was called love, but you cannot envy this woman, because his heart did not belong to her completely. I wouldn't want to be in such a situation.
His ex-wife has now become an integral part of our life together, she constantly inquires about our daughter, previously asked to influence her daughter, pay for the club, help with medications, pick her up for the summer, and so on. But knowing that she poses no threat to our marriage still warms my soul.
Snezhana, his school love, is so decent and is so far away that she almost ceased to exist for me. She doesn’t call, doesn’t write, doesn’t catch my eye, doesn’t remind me of herself in any way, so I’m calm like a boat in a quiet harbor.
You know, at first I couldn’t understand what to do: do I want to give birth to my own child in order to completely put an end to our love, to confirm it and show everyone: “Look, I am full-fledged.” Or I still wanted to live for myself, in case he also leaves me with the child.
And he could, we even discussed it.
— If you behave the same way, then I will leave you too. And the child is not a hindrance.
— But what about debt, because the child is common.
— I am not a victim to endure a vixen wife just for the sake of some duty. Money — yes, help — yes, but physically nearby — no.
And it sobered me up. Children should not be used as a way to keep a man. Give birth, so much for yourself. But I didn’t want it for myself.
My beloved also shared his secret dream — “to show the child an example of healthy relationships.” It was about the relationship with me and Katerina. I was offended that they wanted to use me to make another person happy, even a child.
I didn’t want to make anyone happy, to show someone an example of a happy relationship and love.
I wanted to be happy myself.
Who understands me? Hands up. Higher so I can see. Thank you, my dears. I'm so touched. Thank you. Lower it, sit down. Low bow to you.
Okay, let's be honest, we're all fucking selfish. We don't care about others if we ourselves have cats scratching our souls. Right?
Or are we able to give love to the whole world by sacrificing ourselves?
Anyway. Then I really felt bad. I had to break myself so as not to show my bitchy essence. I was in a strange city, far from my family, there were no friends, the new ones were all through Vladislav, that is, on his side. They looked at me under a magnifying glass, examining every facial detail, trying to understand whether there was a monster hiding behind that modest smile.
I kept myself under control for a very long time, only occasionally revealing pearls, such as a very quiet domestic quarrel.
I only became a little more confident in myself when we moved to St. Petersburg.
In Krasnodar, I was a girl living in the support of an adult man, raising a capricious girl who came occasionally. Can you imagine?
Damn your leg!
I was under the magnifying glass of his parents and relatives, of him, his colleagues and friends. Damn, I was watched like a wolf in a herd of sheep. Like, when will she show her true colors. When she loses her temper with the child, has a row with Vladislav, leaves and never returns.
It seems to me that they not only expected it, but even wanted it.
But it was not there. I'm a tough nut to crack. (wink juicy)
Now I even remember how I was so carried away that we looked with arrogance at other couples, where the wife shuts up her husband, interrupts in general company, shows character, chats incessantly, and the husband sits in the corner smiling and thinks one of two things:
“Well, well, you are the queen here, you humiliate me here, and then I will go to Nastya (here you can put any other name of your mistress), so she will love and respect me, listen and support me.”
Or.
“She’s right, I’m so cheerful and lively, but I just don’t know how to communicate with people, I don’t like all this noise. Besides, I say all sorts of nonsense, I can’t carry on a conversation.”
Can you imagine?
How often have you seen such a pitiful creature as in the second example? Well, we saw it, okay, but not often.