🕯️ Finding light when stepparenting feels like a very long, very dark tunnel

… and the only way out is through. 🖤

Dan took me hiking inside this huge underground lava tube once. It was fine, nothing special. The floors and walls were completely smooth; there were no sudden turns or drop-offs. No pretty lichen or cool crystal growths. Just curved black lava rock above and below, like walking down the inside of a hollowed-out snake.

We kept going until we could no longer see the entrance behind us. Then Dan said, "Let's turn off our headlamps.”

"Sure," I said.

I wasn't prepared for how inky black the air would turn, how quickly the darkness could crush in around us. I've never experienced darkness that complete. Like maybe if you blindfolded yourself inside a closet down in a windowless basement and shut the door behind you, maybe that would come close.

Except in a basement closet, you'd at least have the comfort of walls around you. Here, there was nothing.

I couldn't reach the tunnel sides with my arms outstretched, or the ceiling with my hands overhead. I couldn't reach Dan, either. I couldn't see my own hands in front of me, couldn't see my own feet to make sure my path was clear. Even knowing I could turn the headlamp on again at any second, I felt instantly suffocated, trapped, and disoriented.

Déjà vu.

So many people have asked me what my secret is — what got me through those dark early stepmom years. And honestly? I don't know. How the hell did our marriage survive?