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How Do I Push My Stepson Out Of The Away So I Can Enjoy My Marriage?

How Do I Push My Stepson Out Of The Away So I Can Enjoy My Marriage?

My husband had a child from his previous relationship before he met me. According to my husband, the girl was in school when she got pregnant. Her parents were so infuriated they didn’t want to see him or even discuss the future of the two of them. After the child was born, he was ready to marry the girl but the parents of the girl objected to that decision. He said, “They told me the girl was too young. They said the girl had to go back to school. I was ready to wait for her and even support the girl’s education. She was at the university. The parents simply didn’t want to have anything to do with me so they cut me off.”

When the child was two years old, my husband went for him and sent the child to his parents. He told me this story in the early part of our relationship. He asked me, “Are you comfortable with a born one man? Will you not have problems living your life with a man who already has a child?” I asked him, “Why do you ask? Do you have a child?” That was when the story of his past got unfolded. I told him, “I’m glad you’ve told me at this point of the relationship. If indeed you have nothing to do with the child’s mother, then I don’t have any problem with you having a child. I only don’t want a situation whereby the mother of the child would come between us, trying to dictate the pace of our lives just because she has a child with you.” 

He assured me everything was going to be alright because he had not spoken to the mother of the child since they went for the child. When we were dating, I went to his mother oftentimes with him to see the child. The agreement was that the child would come and live with us after we are married. I didn’t have issues with that. My husband’s son also becomes my son and I was ready to play the role of a mother in his life. 

The boy was eight years old when he came to live with us. I remember when we picked him, his mother was worried that I was going to treat him badly because I’m a stepmother. She had a long conversation on the phone with my husband. She didn’t like the idea of her son going to live with a stepmother. My husband gave me the phone to speak with her. I assured her that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt the child because I don’t know where my children may end up someday. She said, “I love the conviction in your voice and I want to believe you.” I said, “Believe me. He’s my son and he’ll be alright.”

The boy is now thirteen years old. I have two kids of my own. The first one is a boy. He’s currently five years old and the second one is almost two years. I’ve been able to live with this boy peacefully, raising him side by side with my own kids, trying everything within my power to raise them as though they were kids from the same mother and father. It was working. The boy was always happy until he started visiting his mother on vacation. During the long Covid break, he was living with his mother. Things started changing when he returned from his mother. 

He started acting distant. He would rather talk to his father than me. He would rather wait until his father comes before he does his homework. If they told him something in school or was given a letter to be given to his parents, he would rather wait and give that letter to his father than give it to me. I saw that change but it didn’t bother me a lot. I thought I was the one thinking too much so I didn’t bother to even discuss it with my husband. I could live and bear with that change in him because it didn’t affect anything. But when he started bullying my five-year-old son and started playing tricks on the little one, I started having issues. 

They are in the same school so they go to school together. My son started telling me that he doesn’t want to go to school with him. I asked him why, he didn’t say anything. When I force him to go with him, he’ll cry and throw tantrums until I push him out to go with him. I didn’t understand it so I started investigating. I went to the school and asked my son’s teacher if she had seen anything untoward between the two. She said, “He reported to me one day that his brother eats his food.” When my son came home that day, I coerced him to tell me everything. He said, “He said he will kill me if I tell you.” My heart skipped a beat. How can a five-year-old boy know what it means to kill so much so that he wouldn’t talk because of it? I assured him that nothing would happen to him before he told me everything. 

The boy collects his food on the way, eats it, and hands him an empty bowl, and threatens to beat him if he tells anyone. When my husband came, I told him about it. We called the boy and asked him. He swore heaven and earth that it was a lie. He even cried, mentioned names of people we can verify from that he had never done that to his brother. To cut matters short, I sent my son to school myself. He never stopped bullying him. During break time, he’ll go for my son, take him to a quiet place with his two friends and make him kneel, or do squats or even make him lie on the floor and rollover. Just anything to make my son unhappy. My husband plays down the issues each time I tell him about them. He tells me, “They are boys. Boys are like that. As far as there are no physical injuries, they are fine.”

I changed my son’s school. When the little one was starting crèche, I sent the two of them to the same school. He couldn’t get to hurt him in school so he decided to bully him in the house. My son was crying about his toys. He said the boy had ceased his toys. I went to him and asked the whereabouts of the toys. He said he hadn’t seen it. My son kept shouting, “He’s lying. It’s with him.” I looked around I didn’t find it. I told my son, “Don’t worry, look for another toy and play with it. He said, “There are no toys. He has taken all of them.” I went to his room and started searching. Guess what, he had collected all the toys in a sack and had hidden them under his bed. I didn’t touch it. When my husband came, I took him to his room and showed it to him. Again, he found it funny. He said it’s a boy thing. He gave him a tap on the wrist and let the case die. 

I didn’t set out to hate the boy but his presence in the house was becoming a danger to my own kids so I started looking at him in different ways. No, I don’t hate him but I tried to protect my own kids so he wouldn’t have access to them. The little boy woke up at dawn crying. When he cries at dawn, it’s usually about food. I went to the kitchen to make food for him. I got there and couldn’t find his food. I asked my husband if he had placed them somewhere else. He said he hadn’t. I kept searching and searching and couldn’t find it. I give him water, carried him around until he slept again. The next day, I found the food under the bed of the boy. He had eaten half of it and was hiding the half from me so I don’t use it. 

Again, I told my husband about it. He gave him a lousy warning and threatened if that happens again, he won’t give him money to school. That night I spoke to my husband about the boy’s behavior. I was passionate about the way I spoke, trying to draw his attention to the dangers of the boy’s behavior. He asked, “So what do you want me to do to him?” I said, “You’re not punishing him enough. You usually make a joke out of it and it doesn’t help the situation.” He said, “Stop overreacting. They are boys. You don’t expect them to play like girls.” I said, “You mean it’s alright for him to hide his brother’s food because he’s a boy? He beats my son and hides his toys because he’s a boy? Then what kind of boys are we raising here, vandals?” He brushed men aside like you’ll brush aside things that are unimportant. 

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So I’m in the kitchen cooking lunch. The little one was sleeping in the bedroom so my ears were on the ground trying to pick up hints of any activities coming from him. For a very long while the house was silent. I mean too silent for me to be comfortable. I called out the boy’s name and he responded from his room. I asked where my boy was and he said, “He’s sleeping here.” I continued cooking but I couldn’t shake off the presence of total silence in the house from my mind. I walked to the bedroom and the little one was still sleeping. I tiptoed to the boy’s room and saw my son lying facedown on the floor. I mentioned his name and he rolled up. His lips were sealed with sellotape. I rushed to the boy and tried to hit him but I stopped midway. I screamed, “What the hell are you doing to him?” He didn’t talk. He sat there crying. I think he got scared the way I rushed on him. My boy started crying too. I took a picture of him and sent it to my husband. I said, “This is how boys play?” He asked what happened and I narrated everything to him. He sent laughing emojis. He said, “I will come home soon and get to the bottom of it.”

When he asked him why he did that. He said it was my son who asked him to do it because he wants to be a prisoner. My son said he tied his hands first before sealing his lips with the sellotape. My husband said, “Don’t ever engage in that sort of play again.” Case die. 

I want to start a discussion with him to send the boy away. He can send him back to his parents or he can send him back to the boy’s mother, I don’t care. I just don’t want the boy around my children. My husband is not a man enough to instill discipline in him and that’s the most dangerous part of the whole problem. To cut matters short, he should go back to where he came from. Christmas vacation is coming soon. He’ll definitely go and visit his mother. I want him to go and not come back. How do I start a discussion of this nature with my husband without sounding like I’m sending the boy away because he’s not my son? My kids are endangered and I want to be successful with this discussion. How do I go about it? 

–Benewaa    

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