The Washington PostDemocracy Dies in Darkness

Carolyn Hax: She says nurture isn’t in her nature, but her fiance has a kid

Perspective by
Columnist
July 4, 2020 at 11:59 p.m. EDT
(Nick Galifianakis/for The Washington Post)

Hi, Carolyn: I never wanted to have kids. I don't have that maternal instinct I see in my girlfriends who plan their whole life around becoming a mother (we are in our late 30s, so that involves some extreme behaviors). I spend my whole life avoiding kids. You know, they are boring, can't really carry a conversation and are SO high-maintenance (just kidding)!

My attitude toward children had never been a problem until few years ago. That's when I met "Dylan." He is all the right things and more, however, he has a daughter, "Abby," from a previous relationship. Abby is 6 and spends weekends with us.

We are not getting along, and I don't know how to change that. Apparently I am too hard on her, expect too much and don't cuddle enough. I don't know why, but she brings out the worst instincts in me. I tend to be impatient and snappy and some of the weekends turn into a nightmare. Dylan and I are engaged, and this puts a major strain on our relationship. I can honestly say we don't have other issues, but this is a BIG one and it puts our future in doubt. How do I fix this?

— Bonus-Mom-to-Be

Bonus-Mom-to-Be: You start by recognizing that with a child in your home you already function as a parent, so you’re not any kind of “mom-to-be.” You cohabited away the luxury of not wanting kids.

Don’t misread me on “luxury.” Opting out of having children is a fair choice and I judge no one who makes it. Kids are complete people but immaturity has its hallmarks, which some adults can’t bear to be around, and I fully support those who see this impatience in themselves and choose accordingly to avoid children. In fact, I thank them for their self-awareness.

However. Dylan is a father. If life were a drop-down menu, selecting him would gray out childlessness, avoiding kids, snappy impatience, unleashing your worst whenever prompted and treating parental conflicts over such a young child as a discrete issue within a relationship. Choosing Dylan erased your freedom to let your attitude call the shots.

So you either find it in your heart to love — or, commit yourself to loving — Abby, all-in, and doing everything else that entails, or move out. Soon.

The “everything else” specifically includes taking parenting classes to teach you realistic expectations for Abby at every age. The Parent Encouragement Program (www.pepparent.org) has online offerings you can start on today. Family therapy, too, is a must, to tame the chaos whether you stay or go.

“Everything else” also generally includes humbling yourself to the greater good. You share top authority in your household but aren’t the top priority, not with a minor child present.

Dylan is even more culpable than you are here, for moving in with someone unprepared to nurture his daughter. Protecting Abby was his primary responsibility. But he didn’t write to me so my answer is for you.

Lacking “maternal instinct” may be an obstacle, but it’s not an excuse. You don’t have to crave motherhood to remember being a child yourself — and feeling in your marrow the profound influence the adults in your life had on you. If you can’t summon that, then research has done it for you. Search “adverse childhood experiences” — ACEs — or just read what the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has to say about the lasting effects of stress in the home at www.cdc.gov/vitalsigns/aces.

You hold that power now. Will you use it to nurture Abby? Or negate her?

If you choose nurture, then it will be hard, yes — and potentially just as rewarding, if you want it to be. But if you stay thinking there’s some loophole that allows you to make nice and count the days, then you all stand to suffer.

It really comes to this: Say into a mirror, out loud, I’m not kidding, “I have no business making a child miserable just because I want her father.” If you can really mean it, then you’re thinking like a parent. Then you’re ready to take responsibility for a child’s emotional health, maternal instincts or not. That’s true even if your first act as a parent is to break up with her dad and move out because you find yourself unwilling or unable to make a safe home for Abby.

I realize my whole answer will come off as a righteous scolding. But this is an emergency for Abby of your and Dylan’s making: Her home for (more than) a third of her days, give or take, is not a safe and supportive place for her.

You understand that’s unacceptable, yes? So fix it by imagining a home you’d want to live in if you were 6, and then doing the hard work to make it real — either by summoning a warmer presence than you ever thought yourself capable of, or through the grace of your absence.

Write to Carolyn Hax at tellme@washpost.com. Get her column delivered to your inbox each morning at wapo.st/haxpost.