Baby Steps Are Still Steps

 A long, long time ago, when I was a little, very little girl, my mom married my first step-dad. We'll call him J, for now, I think.

I loved him to the ends of the world and back, trashing my relationship with my real dad, who didn't quite fit into the 'cool' category, in the process. I had a step-sister, but he didn't really have much to do with her. He hung my moon, and, come to think of it, surely he'd named all the stars, too.



He could be soooo fun, riding go-carts with his hat turned backwards, yelling at the "competition" that they were running with the big dogs now, and then grinning at me in the passenger's seat. I was only 2 when he came into my life. He taught me karate, and how to fish(though it's been so long I hardly remember any of it.) He played cards with me.

But, over time, he changed. He lost some of the luster he had for both my mother and I. Gradually, I came to an understanding of the rules with him. You had to really be something to earn his praise. He wouldn't watch me run unless I could get my mile time down under seven minutes. If I didn't place, my competitions weren't worth coming to. He quit playing games with me. I learned to ask about his day, but never tell about my own. If he thought you were lying to him, go ahead and "confess", because, evidence aside, he was the right one.

And, yet...I loved him.

So, when my mother and I came home from a mother-daughter trip to find signed divorce papers on the bathroom sink and an empty house, I was heart-broken. I begged him to stay, and he told me he'd stayed for as long as he could, and it wasn't worth it to him anymore. I wasn't worth it.

My thirteen year old self was devastated. Three days after the divorce was final, he was remarried. A lot of baggage later, my mom completely cut ties for both of us. I wasn't allowed to see him. When I got the news, I became utterly inconsolable. Nothing would placate me. I threw things, I had screamed, I raked my nails over my face. I had to be held down. It was an ugly, dark time for my mother, but especially so for me.



Fast-forward. It's been a little over eight years. Mom's remarried to a man who treats her right. I still struggle with some of the things he said to me, and with the way he left. I've done my best to forget.

But...Mom texted me yesterday. She'd run into him at the bank. Apparently, J had had quite a lot to say. He was sorry, his biggest regret was me. He wanted to see me. I was at work when I got the text. My heart leapt in my throat, as quickly as my stomach dropped to my toes. I was scared, nervous, excited, and ready to cry all at once. My first instinct was to call him, to go for it.

BUT. Instead, I picked up the phone and I called Steven. I told him--the man who knows me, inside and out, who knows so much about J and all I went through--about the text from my mother, and about J's decision to try and make amends. And, then, I took a bitty baby step in our DD relationship.

I told him that I knew he cared for me, and that whether or not I went to meet J was in his hands. I knew it could be potentially an emotionally dangerous situation for me. I forgave J a long, long time ago...but there's so much water under that bridge...I'm scared to even try and swim it. And, certainly, I can't swim it alone.

Steven's not just thrilled with the situation, but he understands how much it means to me to try this, even though I'm scared. He hurt me before, and I've still not recovered totally...I don't want to ever face that kind of hurt again. But...I don't know that I would forgive myself for not giving it a shot.

So, I said it was up to Steven(yay, for baby steps in submission!!), and he(maybe a bit reluctantly) said yes! So, I made the call today. J sounded excited to hear from me...

He's going to call me back next week to set up lunch or something...

And, I guess, we'll go from there.

One thing's for sure--I'll definitely be leaning on Steven to help me walk through this interesting little twist. :)