When I married Julien I already knew he had a daughter from a previous marriage. Elodie, his exwife, had walked away from the child six years earliershe took her things and fled to Belgium with a new lover, starting life over from scratch. Since then shes had two more kids, calls her eldest twice a month on video, and only sends presents on holidays. I could see the little girl yearning for her mother, staring at her phone screen, hoping shed say, Come live with me. But she never invited her, never showed up. She simply erased her from her life.
At first the child stayed with Juliens mother, my motherinlaw. But the older woman quickly became exhausted, overwhelmed by homework, tantrums and crises. She gave the granddaughter back to her father. Julien brought her home, looked me in the eye and whispered, Amélie will live with us. For a long time.
I genuinely tried to be a good stepmother. I bought her clothes, cooked her favourite meals, took her to school, talked hearttoheart. I wanted to become a friend. Instead she shut herself off, as if an invisible wall had risen between us, with no effort to bridge the gap. She didnt ignore meshe made it clear that, in her world, I was nobody.
Three years have passed. The girl is now twelve and still lives with us, ordering things as if the house were hers, not ours. Every evening she complains to her father: Aunt Claire forced me to tidy up, Aunt Claire didnt buy what I wanted. Then my motherinlaw calls me to criticize me for not taking enough care of the child and says Im about to have a baby too, so its time you learn how to be a mother. Yet she herself refuses to look after her granddaughter for even an hour when I have an urgent doctors appointment or work.
I am exhausted. I work, I keep the house, I cook, and now Im pregnant. Julien, although he doesnt side with his daughter, still asks me to be gentler, more patient. I cant take it any longer. This girl has become a source of irritation. Shes messy, rude, never says thank you, doesnt listen and is never satisfied. She isnt mine, and I no longer hide that fact.
Sometimes, late at night in the kitchen, I think, If only I had refused for her to move in if I had insisted but its too late. I cant leave Julienwere expecting a child together. And, as selfish as it sounds, I increasingly wish his daughter would want to go back to her grandmother, to say, Im better with grandma. I wont beg her to stay. I wont even cry.
All I want is peace. No constant accusations, no fighting for my place in this house. I want my child to grow up in love and harmony, not in tension and arguments. Perhaps thats my only chance to save this family without losing myself.
Desire for My Husband’s Daughter to Move in with Her Stepmother
