Hey, my name is Alana, and this is the story of my crazy stepmother. It’s a wild ride, so get ready! Ok…here goes.
My parents got divorced when I was 13 years old. I mean, I saw it coming. They were constantly arguing, throwing things, or worse…not talking. I didn’t have any siblings to turn to. The only people I could talk to about it were Mom, who was adamant it was all Dad’s fault, and Dad, who felt the same way about Mom. So, I didn’t talk about it at all, to either of them…or to anyone. I just bottled it all up, getting more and more angry. And sad. When they announced they were formally calling it quits, it was actually a relief. At least I didn’t have to pretend that everything was okay anymore. They agreed on shared custody; a week at Mom’s, then a week at Dad’s. I was going to have two bedrooms, one at each house. Well, Dad got the house…Mom moved into a little apartment nearby. I’m still not sure exactly what happened, but I had the feeling that Mom was getting the short end of the stick. Neither of them said anything to me – they never would – but Mom seemed more sad than Dad, and it seemed like he was getting the important things, like the house and our dog. The day finally came. Papers were signed. Mom had already moved all her stuff into her new apartment, and, walking through our house – which I guess was now Dad’s house – there was no sign she’d ever even lived there – or been part of his life, for that matter. The first couple weeks the new family rotation went okay. It was weird, yeah, but there weren’t any issues. Then came the third week. I got home from school, and Dad was in the kitchen. But he wasn’t alone. As soon as I walked through the door I could hear a woman laughing. I can’t even describe why, but my blood curdled and my heart sank. I walked into the kitchen and there she was: this younger, blonde woman laughing at my Dad like he was the funniest person on earth. She looked fake, more like a barbie doll than anything else. “Oh, hey, Alana,” Dad said cheerfully, “This is Cassie!” That was the tell. If Cassie had been a FRIEND of my Dad’s, he would have introduced her as “My FRIEND Cassie.” Same thing if she had been a neighbour, or a co-worker, or a …telemarketer, I don’t know, whatever. Except he just introduced her as…Cassie. I immediately knew that there was something going on with my Dad and this woman, and I didn’t like it, not one bit.
“Hi there,” I said, and turned to Dad. “I’m just gonna grab a snack. I’ll eat in my room.” “Sure thing. How was your day?”
“Not too bad. I mean, I had my science test…that was actually okay, to be honest. I thought I was going to fail it at first, but…-“
“Oh, Simon! I forgot to tell you…“ Cassie’s words cut through my sentence like a knife, and she launched into a story about something that happened at work. It was like I wasn’t even in the room anymore. Actually, it was like I hadn’t been in the room to begin with. I felt like a ghost. Silently I got some cookies and went upstairs. Alone in my room, I stared at the ceiling, eating a cookie. WHAT the heck was going on? This became my new routine. Spend a week with Mom: normal, good. Good because she was actually happier now, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. All of a sudden, she had way more time to spend with me, and it was awesome. We could hang out watching Lifetime movies all night without Dad telling us it was stupid and childish. But then I’d have to go spend a week with Dad. Oh, did I say Dad? I meant Dad…and CASSIE. Always Cassie. There for dinner, there for breakfast, there all the time, listening to that laughter floating down our hallways like toxic gas. I don’t know what about her gave me such a bad vibe, but something just …did. You know? Like, you meet someone, and even though they don’t necessarily do anything wrong, you just get this gut feeling, like, they ‘re bad news. Well that’s how I felt. I couldn’t relax with Cassie there. It didn’t help that any time Dad and I tried to have a conversation, she’d immediately de-rail it, and make everything all about her. Rosco, our dog, didn’t like her either. Smart dog. And then I’d go back to mom’s and Cassie would just be a bad dream. But wait! Here’s a joke: what’s worse than one Cassie? Two Cassies! Yep, that’s right. Cassie has a daughter. Younger than me, but still a perfect little blonde barbie, and one heck of a spoiled brat. Her name is Portia, and she hated me from day one - even though she was intruding in MY house. The house I grew up in. The little spoiled brat got whatever she wanted. She came over for dinner and we ate mac and cheese, three nights in a row, because that was the only food that PORTIA wanted to eat. If I ever didn’t want to eat my veggies, Dad made me anyway. When Portia didn’t eat them? Dad first tried to suggest that Portia should just eat her vegetables
like the rest of us but I saw Cassie’s fingernails dig into his forearm. “Simon!” she hissed. And, what do you know, Dad caved – Portia didn’t have to eat her vegetables! One of the only signs that Mom had ever lived in this house was a framed picture I had hanging over my bed, a smiling family picture of five year old me, Mom and Dad. I knew it was a lie. Mom and Dad hadn’t been that happy in years, but I still liked having it. One day I come home from school, throw my backpack on the bed – and did a doubletake. The picture on the wall was gone, and not only that, it had been REPLACED with a cute little stock photo canvas of a polar bear cub. I was furious. My picture hadn’t just fallen off the wall – it was gone.
I stormed downstairs. “Has anyone seen the picture that was hanging over my bed?” I yelled.
“Oh, you mean the one of the cute little bear?” Cassie said sweetly, with a sly smile.
“You know the one I mean! The one of me, Mom and Dad!”
“Your old family doesn’t live here anymore.” Cassie replied, her tone just as sweet, but her eyes were ice cold. Dad said nothing. I’ve never forgiven him for it. Then things got worse. Cassie officially moved in, and so did Portia. Dad said that Portia would be moving into the smaller spare room, but you’ll never guess whose bedroom she wanted…and she got it. I literally had to move out of my room, the room I had grown up in, and surrender it to a 10-year-old brat who was just as mean to me as her mother. I left the stupid polar bear in there…Portia could have it. All my stuff was crammed into the spare room. I heard Cassie whining to Dad that I was too messy and disorganized, and I ruined their perfect little home. “Maybe,” I said sharply, “I should just move some of that extra stuff to my Mom’s.” Cassie agreed. I could tell she was thinking about how wonderful it could be if she could pack me up into one of those boxes and ship me back to my Mom’s, too. It wasn’t the first time I had noticed her trying to move me out. She even changed the WiFi password and wouldn’t give me the new one, so I couldn’t get on the internet. I complained do Dad, but Cassie convinced him it was for my own good, that my grades were bad and I didn’t need any distractions from my work - distractions, like the Internet.
But nothing compared to the day when Cassie announced that she would be “getting rid” of Rosco. He was simply too loud, smelled too “doggy”, and he kept getting his fluffy white fur all over her clothes! Besides, Portia wanted a chihuahua – something as small and yappy as she was, no doubt. That was the last straw. I felt myself grow taller and taller, as if I was three times my original size. I felt like a superhero. “You will NOT be doing anything with MY dog.” I yelled. Rosco ran to me as if he knew what I was talking about. “My Mom will be more than happy to take him. She wanted him anyway. This was Rosco’s family, it was MY family, and if you don’t want us anymore… This was Rosco’s family, it was MY family, and if you don’t want us anymore… fake family, and your stupid chihuahua.”
As Roscoe and I walked toward the door, it hurt me more than ANYTHING that Dad made no effort to stop me. I didn’t care about Cassie or Portia, but that was my Dad, and he didn’t care that I was leaving. Cassie had changed him so much that I didn’t even recognize him anymore. I walked towards Mom’s house, sobbing like a baby. It was a long walk, but I didn’t even notice. I felt numb, like a ghost, or a zombie. Rosco walked quietly next to me, every once in a while giving me a reassuring lick. When Mom answered the door, she immediately knew something was wrong. I’d been crying for so long that my face was swollen, and I never brought Rosco over, either. I told her everything, I really regretted not being honest with her from the beginning. I thought I was keeping her from being hurt, but in hindsight, she knew about Cassie from the beginning. Dad didn’t just start dating Cassie a couple weeks after the divorce - he was already seeing her while they were married. Mom went ballistic. She got Rosco settled, and drove me straight to Dad’s. She announced she was there to get all my stuff, and Dad seemed to know there was no use arguing with her. I just followed her silently and carried my boxes of stuff down. Dad tried to make eye contact with me, but I just looked at the ground. I live full time with Mom now. Dad didn’t even try to get time with me. Mom says Dad and Cassie are getting engaged, and all I can say is: good riddance. I miss who my Dad used to be, but I don’t miss who he is now – and I especially don’t miss “family life” with Portia and Cassie.
And you know what? Living with Mom is actually quite nice. The divorce changed her, just as much as it changed Dad. But while Dad changed in a bad direction, Mom changed in a good way, and we’re closer than ever. Sure, her apartment’s not as nice as Dad’s house and it’s a hike to school. But it’s still 100x better to live here. I used to be anxious about going home after school because I never knew what insult Cassie and Portia would have for me. I was stressed all the time. Now, I’m happy to open our door every time I get home because I know that everyone there loves me. I know what happened isn’t fair, but I’m not angry any more. I have my Mom, I have Rosco, and they both love me, and that’s enough for me.
Do you guys have any similar stories? I hope you don’t have a wicked stepmom like Cassie or stepsister like Portia. But maybe you have steps? Share your story in the comments below! And please hit the like and subscribe to this channel - It really helps to get more stories out. Thanks for listening! Hey guys! It's Sarah here from
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