To the piece of shit who married my mom,
Why are you such an asshole? What, in all of my life have I done to constitute your hatred of me? How is it that at 50+ years old you can still manage to be the biggest asshole I’ve ever met, and the most immature human being I’ve ever met. Did you fail to evolve throughout your life span? Were your parents total dicks to you? You have been a malignancy in this family since you first stepped foot within the door. You are killing my mother by treating me and my brother like shit. You two argue compulsively over how you treat the two of us. We have been nothing but nice to you all along. We continue to be nice to you because of our mother. Why is it that you can’t return the same courtesy? You’re a bad husband. You’re a worse step-father. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father and you treat me like I’d be better off dead. Have you ever stopped to consider what that could do to my self-esteem and emotional state? You make home life a nightmare for everyone. You make me and my brother not want to spend holidays with our mother. And you do it on purpose, because you want her to yourself. You’ve said it. You worthless, grubby, British (sorry to the rest of you Brits) peice of mindless ass monkey motherfucking shit. Just once I want to put my foot up your blimey stinkin ass. The next time you open your crotchety old mean mouth to me to say something as stupid and rude as every other thing you’ve ever said, it’s on. I’m sick of your shit. I’m sick of how you treat me. I’m sick of how you disrepect my mother. I’m really tired of how you disgrace this family with your infantile and rude behavior. You want a dose of your own medicine? You’re about to get a whole heapin’ helpin’ of it you fucking shithead. I wish I’d never had the ill-fortune of learning you ever existed.
Pretty good.
So what brought this rant on? Did he do something paricularly assholish, or is it just a build-up of continual assholery?
(No insult intended in this question - it’s a good rant, I’m just wondering if there’s a particular story behind it.)
About six months ago my mother and step-dad moved back to the US from England as my mom is close to retiring. Ever since he stepped foot into this country he has done nothing but treat me like shit. No, not shit. I’m not that good. I’m the gooey slimey stinky scum on top of the shit. This rant is a response to his continual assholery. Why I decided to post it on this particular day is another matter completely. I made a comment about the “mean man” to my cat (referring to him) in front of my mother. She said he wasn’t a mean man because he put up $500 of his own money to help her buy a car from my cousin, and instead of him turning around and selling it for three times what they paid for it, he agreed to let her sell it to me for the price they paid for it. Considering my current car is held together by duck tape and bubble gum, that was a very nice thing for them to do. But her assertion that I should think he’s a nice guy because he did one nice thing on one day regardless of the fact that he’s been an ass every other day seriously pissed me off. Hence the rant.
My step-dad used to call me a worthless piece of shit every day. He said I was wasting my time going to college and the only reason I was going was because I was lazy and didn’t want to work.
I used that asshole as motivation to succeed. Thanks asshole. 
I hated my stepfather; he may have hated me even more.
He used to beat me with a buckle end of a belt when I stood up for my mother; he used to beat me if he came home from work in a bad mood; he used to beat me if I spoke about my dead father in front of him; he beat me a few times just because I looked at him in a way he didn’t like (naturally, I didn’t say anything, but he may have seen the dislike on my face). He once beat me because I spoke English to my brother-- as he couldn’t understand a word, and was sure we were speaking against him. Oh yeah, and the verbal abuse that accompanied the beatings was something pretty amazing. Lucky for me and my self-esteem, I never trusted his opinion of me one bit.
When I was around, I usually tried to turn the brunt of the attacks against my Mom towards me. I did the same thing when he started picking on any of my siblings too. I think I was damn frustrating to beat : I remember swearing to myself that I would never let out a peep or cry while he was hitting, that he could beat me to death, yet he would never get a satisfying reaction out of me.
I was a rather small 10-year-old girl at the time. When he continued hitting my mother even though she was pregnant, I jumped on him with a kitchen knife. At that point my mother and younger brothers started screaming and pulling me off.
I’m glad they did. That evening, I went to the bedroom I shared with a couple of other siblings, and cried myself to sleep–but I decided I would go away. I definitely didn’t want to throw away my life and freedom over that piece of trash. When I told my mother in the morning that I wanted to go to boarding school, I think she was relieved. We couldn’t afford it, so I kept moving from one school to the other, getting expelled since the bills weren’t paid (checks bounced etc.) Later on, I worked my way through college and university, and my very first phone call once I had a teaching contract was to my mother : she was still with him. I offered her to come with my other siblings and live with me in an apartment. She hemmed and hawed, and never really gave me an answer. I repeated my offer a few times, but she didn’t accept it.
I never spoke to him again, simply nodding hello when family circumstances forced me to be in his presence. Once he had died, my mother kept going on about how much she loved him and would miss him. Being older and a little wiser since those days long ago of abuse, I just let her talk. But then, maybe she really did love him. Perhaps she even more than she loved her children. Still, I certainly wish she’d protected us more.
So, I understand some of what you’re feeling, but don’t do anything that could lead to your getting into trouble with the law. You seem to be young, and he’s not worth ruining your reputation or getting a criminal record over. He’s obviously incapable of being a father to you and your brother, so just give up on that bit. Take care of yourself, and be good to your brother.
As for your mother, I hope she has the courage to insist on marriage counselling, or to get out of that marriage. But only she can make that kind of change, and if she won’t do so… you and your brother simply have to get on with your lives as best you can.
aphro…
I tend to side with step parents in many situations. The reason being that I was (am but grown now) one. I’ve also seen many step relationships. Step parents are usually in a bad situation. They are expected to sacrifice large amounts of time, money and resources – many times more than the biological father – and they get no ‘credit’ for it. They are not considered a good person by anyone because it is ‘what they are supposed to do’. God forbid if you should balk at spending money on them…you are the 'evil bastard of the world!" The bio father can balk and be a good person…but not the step dad! The bio dad can go golfing on a saturday and not help his kid with homework and family is fine with it but if you do that…relly pissed off inlaws and relatives…
If the kid does well…you get no credit. If the kid does poorly…it is your fault.
No matter what, you will never be the kids parent. If, in your older age and spending much time and $$$ raising them and you get into trouble (medical whatever) the step kids will not raise a finger or help at all. They will say “He’s not my dad”. I’ve seen this happen several times *even when the step-dad/stepkid have a good relationship *
I’ve always recommended that potential step parents really think twice or three times before actually becoming one.
========
Why do I write the above to you? I want you to see the other side.
Now that being said…
DO NOT LET YOUR STEP PARENT WORDS/ACTIONS TO YOU IMPART ANY MEANING TO YOU!.
He is not your father. He probably doesn’t really care all that much for your future success. He probably wishes you didn’t exist. You cramp his style and he wants to make sure you take up as little resources as possible.
Remember…the first thing a male lion does is kill the other male he just dethroned’s offspring? Why? because he doesn’t want to spend his time/resources or his mates time/resources on other males children.
Most likely…YOU WILL NEVER PLEASE HIM… Do not spend your ego or sacrifice your self esteem trying to get his approval. Do not take his negativity to you as anything indicitive of reality. Care about yourself. Do not do self-destructive behavior to get back at him. Take care of yourself.
If he reaches out to you then give him a chance.
If he is poison, then isolate him from being able to psychologically hurting you.
I know this isn’t ‘comforting’ advice but I hope it is of some use.
{Takes out soap box}
This man is a Shit, to you, but he has some money. His offer of this is a Gift. Tell me: To Whom does a gift belong if it is refused?
If you accept this gift, you do so at the price of validating him, validating his opinions of you, and at the price of your self respect. If it is at all humanly possible for you to continue with your life/job/college studies without taking his miserly charity, then don’t accept the gift.
Life may be harder for you; you may need a bicycle (its almost spring) until you have enough to get a replacement junker-car. You may have to pay a bank back with a high rate of interest. Do It Anyway.
If having this worthless piece of shit related to you teaches you anything at all, let it not be how to grovel to him on your knees. Let it be that you gain strength from the power of your convictions. May the hardships he imposes, the ones that you cannot change, make you Stronger, not weaker. If you have to deal with him, deal with him from a position of strength…or don’t have dealings with him at all.
{puts away soap box}
It’s nice to receive positive affirmation from objective and intelligent people. You’re right, I need to look at this from a perspective of strength. And my experiences have not been as horrific as some other people’s. I appreciate the ears, and the room to rant.
Aphrodisiac,
Did he leave my mom and marry yours? I wouldn’t know. Haven’t spoken to my mom in over a year. Our stories are unbelievably similar. My father died in October 1993. My mother married Asshole in July 1994. It’s been hell ever since.
I’m lucky enough to not be living under the same roof. How could I? I moved back home after my dad died. I was 22 and being on my own instead of with my 17 year old brother and mother seemed wrong. It was a time to be close with family. I needed family. But then Asshole came along. His mantra was, “Your kids were your past life. I’m your future life.”
He was on Welfare and living off of my mom. He soon made some calculations and figured that I owed “back rent”. Funny. I had been paying half of the mortgage payments since I was 16 on top of half the car payments (until I moved out). At an earlier age, my babysitting money went towards school supplies and clothes for my brother. Though I was made pay for the car and the house, I wasn’t asked to do this for my brother. I didn’t want him to be “the poor kid” at school like I was. But then again, that was WAY before Asshole came onto the scene. And how my mother forgets.
It seems she also forgets her long and deep-run political beliefs. He’s a hard-core separatist. He has absolute venom in him for Canada. He considers Quebec to be a sovereign nation. So, in the 1995 referendum, not only did he convince her to vote YES (to separation), but also she was a volunteer for his beloved political party.
My mom had been diagnosed with lung cancer, in the summer of 2002. I offered moral support, “medical paperwork” support (I’m a Virgo and very anal about these things). I guess I tried to hug her a few seconds too long, and she pushed me away. My help was refused in every way. Of course, I tried to have a talk about “the serious things”. Her prognosis was very poor, as it seemed to have spread. It came to the point that I had to ask her if her will was up-to-date. I offered to be the executrix, as I had done this many times in my too few years. I knew that my aunt was named executrix at one point, but she’d lost a few marbles since. I was told, “Everything’s in order. We just redid the will. Asshole will be the executor. He’s getting the insurance money. You and your brother will get the house, but there’s a clause that says that Asshole can live there as long as he wants, rent free.” (That is shitty, but I don’t want the house anyway, so who cares?) The house looks like a fucking barn since he’s moved in. Keep it.
Well her operation went smashingly and all was back to normal again. Normal enough to forget who visited her in the hospital every day. Normal enough to forget that her husband tried to fuck me (literally, but I won’t get into that here). Normal enough for her to forget that he called me every disgusting name in the book the next time he saw me, because I didn’t (you see, he had some fascination about me being ‘submissive’ in bed and knew that my creativity surely followed me in bed as well). Normal enough for her to think I was a plague that had been set upon her for some sin she must have committed to be stuck with me. Normal enough to forget that he called the police on my brother for BORROWING the lawnmower (as he had every 2 weeks since he moved out).
To give you an idea of how much I put up with, before saying “fuck it”, quick anecdote:
They had booked a cruise together. My mother’s dream had always been to cruise. As the cruising date approached, Asshole realized his fear of flying (Montreal to Miami) was bigger than he originally thought, especially since 9/11 (which is understandable). He also realized that he’s scared to be on a boat. (Ok, now you’re being a dumbfuck). He also realized that the symptoms of his diabetes were worsening (could be because you use 1 lb. of sugar/week in your tea). So he offered his ticket to me, so my mother could cruise. They were fixing up the paperwork with the travel agent and would get back to me when the tickets were issued. Finally, I got a message from my mom on my machine. “Yeah, Cheeky, we decided to cancel the trip altogether. It was my dream to cruise with my lover. It’s just never been a dream of mine to be on vacation with my daughter.” I understood what she meant. But I called her and said she could be a little more gentle in the way she says things. She just didn’t get it. So fucking brainwashed, there was just no point. Finally she said, “OMG, you’re like a fucking dog with a bone. Are you DONE?” Yeah, I’m done.
I didn’t speak to her for a few weeks. The next time I heard from her was when she was making arrangements for the Holidays at her place. Every bone in my body didn’t want to go; but afterall, it was family. So I did. I won’t go into the ugly details of the ‘last night’. Suffice it to say I’m scarred. Asshole was insulting me in every way he could come up with, the minute I got in the door. As it was a Holiday, I chose to shut-up. I figured if I would, he would stop. He didn’t. I’m scarred at the look on my mother’s face (you could describe it as 
, but not quite :D), when I know damn well she’s my mother and knows he’s hitting EVERY nerve! Nerves that he wouldn’t know to hit if it wasn’t for her BLABBING every single private thing that’s happened to me. Some things that have bothered me since elementary school age. Well apparently she didn’t know why I cut contact. She asked my aunt if she knew why I wasn’t talking to her anymore. Dumb fucking clueless bitch.
I’ve done it all. I’ve tried to talk to her about it. I’ve sent her letters. And so has my brother. I’m so happy to be leaving this country. I’ll never have to be paranoid; walking down the aisles at Wal-Mart, thinking, “OMG, is that them?” every time I see a middle aged couple out of the corner of my eye. I simply don’t want to see/talk to them anymore. My “real mom” died when my dad did. This bitch is simply someone living in her body. She resembles absolutely nothing to the mom I grew up with. She says this is the way she REALLY was the whole time, but hid it with my father. Glad to know you’ve been a fake the whole time you raised me, you cunt.
And when she heard (from my aunt) that I was engaged and moving to Australia. What did she say? “I hope she has enough money to come back to Quebec when it blows up in her face.” Well thank you very much, you skank fucking ho (who proudly displays Asshole’s whip above your bed) who’d rather disown her children in the name of “not having to be alone”. That will never sit well. It just won’t.
“Il vaut mieux de vivre seule, que d’être mal accompagnée” as they say in French. Better to be alone than in bad company. That goes for the both of us. Fuck her. And if she dies alone, that’s the price you pay. If family doesn’t matter to you now, it won’t matter to me later.
Wow Cheeky, no kidding. We could be the same side of a coin. My situation is quickly slipping towards being just like yours. I had a cold shiver run down my back when you said she would rather disown her kids in the name of not being alone. My mom has changed. Not for the better. She says she hasn’t, but being with him has made her harder. More distant. Less caring. I really worry, almost to the point of tears about what the future of our family holds. She’s not the same person anymore, and I miss my mom. When you said his mantra was “Your kids are the past, and I’m the future.” You hit the nail on the head. Thank God at least my step-dad isn’t some sexual sadist. He leaves me the hell alone.