One Year, Open Marriages, Divorce, and a Step-Dad

At the end of grade nine, my mom asked how I'd feel if she left my dad. They had been bickering on and off for a while now, and I was supportive if not mildly enthusiastic. I was going into grade nine and felt like I needed a change. I had no idea what the next year would bring.

Open Marriages

At this point, my mom hadn't told my dad so I had to keep it under wraps. I was awkward and distant from the rest of the family even though it brought me and my mom closer. I had to stand up for myself and remind my mom that I was still a kid. With a little forceful suggestion, she broke the news to everyone as the summer started.

My dad quickly followed suit and explained his side of the story. He had met a woman on a mountain retreat, and they connected. As soon as he felt a spark, he told my mom, and they discussed an open marriage. My mom knew that she would be happier blazing her own trail, so she agreed. They hadn't thought about the awkwardness of living under one roof, and now as we sat in the living room, we all realized that something had to change.

The Apartment

We lived in an upper-middle-class house in one of the best neighbourhoods in the city. I went to a private school and never really thought about money or the value of the home I was in. Now as we moved I realized that wherever we were going was more than likely going to be a bit of a downgrade. My dad bought a house out of the city with a bit of help from his parents, but my mom had to be resourceful.

My mom had introduced my stepdad as a work friend, but it was morphing into something more. My sister and I were elated. He's a loud British man with a penchant for dirty jokes and fancy clothes. His apartment, however, was another story. He had been living with his long-term girlfriend and hadn't thought about the deterioration of the building. It's on top of his family tombstone business, so it seems like we live beside an urban graveyard. Not to mention it's next to two homeless shelters and invites a constant stream of heroin addicts who love shooting up on the front steps. It is a far cry from our classy brick home on the hill, but it was supposed to be a temporary situation. We still haven't moved out.

Mid-Life Crises?

Whether or not my dad is in the middle of a mid-life crisis is debatable. He wants to live in a yurt and grow out his hair at the moment, but then again, he's always been a free spirit. He has taken on a do it yourself attitude and as a result, his pool is continuously green and the water pump is on its last legs. There's no animosity between us, and sometimes I give my dad relationship advice. I have grown to love the little apartment and made friends with some of the homeless population. They have been kind enough to stop shooting up on the front step as long as we leave the lights on.

Lessons Learnt

My family is dysfunctional but communicative which is more than a lot of families can ask for. I wouldn't change the last year even though it's been painful at times. I learnt to stand up for myself and take care of my family without burning myself out. I found a balance, and so did my parents.