Journal: Hiding in the Broom Closet from Family

Editor’s Note: I’ve gone back and forth on how deeply I want to dive on this as it involves another family member. While I have gone to great lengths to keep this (online and real life) part of myself quarantined from my family, there is always the possibility that they somehow stumble upon this blog. If they ever read this, to them I would say: I believed you were genuine when you said you wanted to build a relationship and so was I. If you have gotten past these issues enumerated below (or would like help in doing so), I am open to continuing forward.

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A few years ago, my father reconnected with a woman he had known overseas and quite quickly married her. There’s a lot of history between this woman and my father, my father and her husband, and my father and my mother. Like my mother, I had no idea about most of it. I’m not sure she even knew all of it before she died as my father had only spilled the beans during their first separation (which happened six months after my mother’s passing). This post is not about my father’s marriage to my mother and their subsequent divorce just as it’s not about the shenanigans he and my (now) stepmother participated in before my mother came along or their eventual surprise reunification and marriage. My mother had remarried (and divorced) in the intervening years so I had already dealt with a stepparent/family situation before. Again, that dynamic isn’t a factor here.

This entry is purely about my stepmother and how she has impacted my journey as a Baby Witch.

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This first time I met my stepmother was the Thanksgiving before my mother died. I had no idea what to expect as my father was very stingy with information about her. All I knew was that she was Puerto Rican, had worked overseas at the air force base where he was stationed, and the love they felt then was just as intense as they felt it now nearly forty years later. He was the happiest I had ever known him to be in my life. Seriously.

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