Trigger warning: talk of depression, a slight suicide mention ... and overall just pure venting

First of all, before i start off .. if you're part of a blended family and love your step-family? That's great. Truly, it's something you should be fully grateful for. I, unfortunately, don't have that sort of luck. I'm 21, and my father's girlfriend is 29 (soon to be 30). She came into my life when i was around 16, and i had only met her by accident because i took the wrong bus at uni and ended up at the mall like a total bafoon, so my dad had to ask her for her car.

I don't fully remember how .. we were prior to her living with us, she took me on a Primark shopping trip for my 17th birthday, which was the most fun i ever had that year. And the first time i had properly experienced, you know, one of those girly shopping trips i have always heard girls talk about growing up. After that, we didn't have the nicest relationship, she found me overwhelming, found me annoying at time and wasn't happy about me being in the house so much, taking all of my fathers attention (even when .. to be fair, he spent more time with her than with me.)

They ended up moving house, moving cities AND moving countries. From England to wales, in february 2025. I was already in university by then, already struggling with first year and trying to feel at home in a strange environment.

I had come over for Easter of that year though, and there was .. a lot of tension between me and my stepmother. They had gotten a four bedroom home, and her intention for those bedrooms were: a room for her and my father, my father's office for working at home, future baby's nursery and a guest room. She was not happy with me unpacking any of my stuff from the old house in this bedroom, and wasn't happy with my father slightly overriding her authority.

I actually, fully vividly, remember this one night when i had heard them arguing. I had crouched down, ear to the floor, trying to understand what the arguement was about. It was about me. My stepmum clearly didn't like me.

I hadn't fully grasped every tiny little detail about the fight, but i heard a few of the things she had said, extremely clear. She had accused my father of keeping a shrine of me, aka allowing me to have a bedroom .. decorated how i wanted with the things i wanted, because that's how his own mother did. I remember living with my grandmother, and my uncle's room being practically untouched, even if he had already moved out. But, again, stepmum was unhappy about this. She pointed out that it will be impossible to have guests over, when theres a baby, if i have a room. And that kinda shattered my heart a little.

I couldn't bring myself to keep hearing the rest of the argument, and simply started, very quietly, packing my bags. And by the morning, i had already repacked three full 'tesco for life' bags. I felt like a child threatening to run away, and packing their bags, just because they got a time out. In the morning, i went into my father's office and asked him "Hey, could you bring me back two weeks earlier than intended?" and i was planning on keeping my reasoning vague, but when he asked if i had heard what my stepmum had said the night prior? I couldn't really hide my true feelings. I was truly seconds away from sobbing my eyes out.

My father then gave me a speech on how much he loves me, on how i'll always be his first born. And i wanted to believe him, i really did. But it was hard. I knew how he could be with his girlfriends, how easily absorbed he could get. How easily he could forget my existence. I simply shrugged and did nothing.

Then came the day i dreaded the fucking most since i was 17, i found out in July that she was pregnant. My whole world had collapsed. I went home for university, moving into my flat August 1st. Even if i wanted to spend more time at home, i knew i needed space away from everything. I spent the first few months in a cycle of being okay, then going into a depression because i was realising that my days of being the only child were ending. I was praying that she wouldn't have a girl, and luckily by christmas, i had found out she was having a boy. And god was christmas hard.

I only stayed for 4 days, from the 23rd -> 27th as i didn't know how to handle her pregnancy. I remember drinking like two glasses of wine to try and distract myself during the whole celebration at her families house, especially when they were opening baby presents. I nearly cried in front of her family lol. Then came the dreaded second term of university, where my mental health was pure shit and i was just all around in the worst state i had ever been since i was 13.

I was experiencing emotions that i hadn't really felt? I was missing my mum. Which is odd when i've never had a relationship with her, and i have genuingly zero memories of her. No happy or sad memories attached to her. She was essentially a stranger to me. Every picture i saw of baby me with my mother made me feel weird, part of me knew her, and i missed her, but a huge part of me felt uncomfortable because i just didn't recognise her. I knew i had to confront these emotions at SOME point.

This was also around the time i started a stupid lil' crying google sheets, to track .. when i cried, for how long and what about. And to be fair, i don't cry as much as i thought i had. But there was one thing what was consistent, everytime i cried about my mum? It was always my longest cry, sometimes it was short but sometimes it wasn't. Since starting this sheet on the 8th of February 2026, i have cried about 10 times over my mum - out of 54 times. So not a lot but 1/5 of my crying sessions were about my mum. My first cry being february 9th 2026, for about 20 minutes when i saw a tiktok video about mums and my most recent being was the 25th of may, from 11:31am until 1:00pm or 1 hour and 29 minutes, because i found my mum's facebook. But that wasn't even the worst cry i ever had. I had a two day marathon on May 16th and 17th, which was (in total) 4 HOURS and 20 minutes.

WHY?? because on May 16th i met my little brother. Whom i love a lot but it was extremely hard seeing my father's girlfriend .. be all maternal around him. It's why i was praying she wouldn't have a daughter, because if i saw another little girl get the girlhood and mum/daughter relationship i have always dreamed off? I think i genuingly would've ended it.

Now i just kinda dissociate whenever shes maternal with him, i block it out. But fuck it's hard now that i'm staying with them for a bit during summer because im jealous of my baby brother!! He's going to get the childhood i've always dreamed about, the mother i've always wanted, the happy and calm father i've always wanted. This baby isn't going to grow up panicking about money, or have to cuddle his teddy because dad didn't want a hug when he really needed one. and fuck sake that makes me extremely jealous.

The only thing in life that i want? Is a mum. I missed out on so much because i never had one. Youtube was my mum, i had to learn about my periods through youtube, i never got my first proper bra until i was 17. I always had to cry alone during period pains, because my dad never understood. I feel as if i'll never be woman enough, that i'll never be feminine enough because i never had a mum. And that fucking sucks.

I just hope, when i have my own little ones, that i'll be the mum i wish i had.

great now im sobbing cause i thought too hard about my mum, i guess that makes 11/55 cries lol .. anyways, first true vent on my blog ig!

signing off, drea ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀