What Stepfamily Integration Style Are You?

My search for answers to help my family with our challenges led me to an article about the different integration styles of stepfamilies. The author highlights the different styles as:

• Blender

• Food Processor

• Microwave

• Pressure Cooker

• Crockpot

I love to cook so this analogy struck a cord with me. My family’s integration isn’t the Blender type as our personalities are too strong to be whipped together.

We’re not the Food Processor type either. We all understand that it takes time for acceptance. Cutting and chopping traditions wouldn’t work for us. We decided that we’d make our own traditions; not better ones, just different ones.

At first I thought our style might be Microwave because we don’t like to be referred to as a “stepfamily” and it does make us feel second-rate; must be a societal thing. I will not invalidate our feelings about that. However, the Microwave style wasn’t a good fit either. My husband and I realized that there would never be a rapid acceptance of me or our marriage on either child’s part. We knew that his son would have an easier integration due to his age: the daughter would be difficult. My son was 10 and it was totally his idea to call me mom. We never even suggested it. We just make sure that he doesn’t refer to me as “mom” in his bio-mom's presence. The daughter calls me by my first name and that is perfectly okay. We are always aware that our family dynamic is different; aren’t they all?

The Pressure Cooker was definitely not our style either. The Pressure Cooker integration style puts family rituals, values and preferences under pressure to meld together completely. This would never work with the personalities in my family. The resultant explosion would have taken out the street.

The Tossed type wasn’t even close to our situation. I have no kids of my own which makes things a bit easier and the bio-mom rarely asks to have her son spend time with her.

Now the Crockpot seems more like what my husband and I practice; low heat over time. We never forced the kids to love me or accept me. We did demand respect. I’m very lucky. I married a wise man who recognized and acknowledged his kids’ emotional and psychological attachment to their bio-mom and never forced them to change it.

Ron Deal, the author of the article I‘m referencing, says the Crockpot style works best. I’m glad to know that our decision is a good one.

My family is a work-in-progress. Have we made mistakes? HELL YEAH! I have a long list that are just mine. This site coupled with the research I’m doing is helping me to determine ways to fix what can be fixed and just accept what can‘t be.

I’m comfortable with the idea that “stepfamily” is a transition term until the individuals involved unite as a “family.” Does everyone in the stepfamily integrate? Unfortunately, I don’t think so.

Your Label Does Not Define Me And Mine

I’ve always had problems wrapping my mind around the idea of the “Stepfamily.” I’ve had difficulty referring to my husband’s kids as my “stepchildren,” and I never refer to my husband as my “second” husband. I introduce them as “my family”, or “my husband.”

I’ve wracked my brain for the reasons I was having this problem differentiating between “family” and “stepfamily.” At first I thought it might have been my ego and I was just being prideful. I’m acutely aware that I am not the childrens’ bio-mother although I treat the kids like my own. The older daughter doesn’t live with us and hasn’t really accepted me, but that’s another story.

There have been many times I’ve been introduced to moms who immediately tell me that they are the “stepmom” or “second” wife and point out the “stepkids” from “their” kids. They’ve gone as far as pointing out which ones are “his, mine and ours” and we had just met. This always leaves me with a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach when I watch the kids’ faces as each is assigned to “their group.” I’ve never intentionally told anyone that my son is not my biological child: I see no need. I’m fortunate that the “bio-mom” doesn’t live close to us and the chances of an accidental meeting are nonexistent.

I’ve finally figured out my problem: my mind interprets the word “step” as something “less than.” I am not “less than” and no one in my family is “less than” hence my difficulty. When my mind sees the word “step” in front of “mom” or “kid” it makes me so uncomfortable that I purposely leave no space between the words; even when it means I have to keep removing the space due to the auto correct. To me that space between represents a great divide that one has to leap across to make contact with the “other” side.