For over a decade, I’ve tried to coexist with my stepfather, but the truth is, I’ve never liked him. He came into my life when I was 18, bringing his entitled attitude and dismissive comments with him. The kind of man who scoffs at waitstaff and thinks refugees just need to “work harder.”
From the start, he never made an effort to know me. Yet, for some reason, he decided it was okay to roast me with jokes that felt more like jabs. It was never banter we weren’t close enough for that.
I’ve always been civil for my mom’s sake, but deep down, I can’t stand him. I’ve even rolled my eyes at him in the moment, unable to hide my disdain. My mother knows this, but she’s always tried to push the idea of him as a father figure.
During the holidays, I was home visiting, and my mom casually mentioned how she and my stepfather couldn’t wait to be grandparents. Confused, I asked if he had kids I didn’t know about. She clarified, saying, “No, the baby you’ll have one day.”
I stared at her, waiting for a punchline, but she was serious. She added that it wasn’t about replacing my father but that it would mean a lot to acknowledge my stepfather as a grandparent after “everything he’s done for us.” She even threw in, “It’s not easy marrying a single mother of four.”
That’s when I lost it.
I told her she could give him all the “best husband” cards she wanted, but he’s never been anything close to a father to me not even a friend.
I laid it all out: how I’ve been in therapy because of him, how his attempts to joke with me felt invasive and dismissive, and how, as the adults in the situation, it was on them to build a relationship with me. Instead, they made no effort and left it to me, a teenager at the time, to bridge the gap.
I told her straight up: I don’t respect people who lack empathy for refugees and those struggling, and he’s done nothing to change my mind. There’s no way I’ll ever consider him a grandparent to my future children.
The blow-up left my mom in tears and my stepfather avoiding me. The house has been awkward ever since. My siblings agree with me, though one said I should’ve just stayed quiet to keep the peace. But after over ten years of this, I couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer.
For context, the kind of “jokes” I’m talking about? One time, I was at the dinner table doing a Wordle puzzle, and he walked by and said, “Why are you playing Wordle? I thought it was for people who liked using their brains.” Then he just laughed and walked off. If it were my brother, I might’ve laughed. But him? No.
Did I go too far, or was this confrontation long overdue?