While we were gathered in the living room, playing games, our daughter, Ava, turned to me and asked, “Do you think you’d prefer to be called a ‘bonus mom’ or a ‘stepmom’? I’m not really fond of the term stepmom…”
I couldn’t help but grin; this was an easy question for me. “I actually like ‘bonus’ much better than ‘step’ or ‘extra.’ A bonus is something unexpected but brings joy—just like you three! I never anticipated having you in my life, but now I feel incredibly fortunate.” She beamed at my response.
“Perfect,” Ava said, “you’re my bonus-mom!”
When Ava and her brothers first became part of my life, we didn’t think much about labels. They were quite young—our sons were just a year old, and Ava was barely four. These sorts of questions didn’t come up, so we didn’t feel the need to define our roles. In fact, I can’t even remember the first time someone called me a stepmom.
While I understood that in society’s eyes, any non-biological parent is labeled a “step” parent, I never felt connected to that term. “Step” suggests distance, a removal of sorts, particularly in biological terms. Yet I never felt distanced from the children; I was deeply involved in their lives. My partner was a stay-at-home mom, while I worked full-time. Together, we shared parenting responsibilities, and I never felt like an outsider.
For me, being a bonus parent has always reflected my perspective on parenting rather than just a title. I grew up in a blended family, learning early on that love doesn’t require blood ties. My half-sister called my biological father “Dad” throughout our childhood, even though he was technically her stepfather. At 12, I quickly bonded with my stepsiblings, and as an adult, I formed a close relationship with their mother, seeing her as another maternal figure. These unconventional family dynamics were filled with the same love as my biological family. It was always about the connections, not the genetics.
When I fell in love with a woman who had three biological children, my feelings were simple: I loved her, and therefore, her children were extensions of that love. I recognized that many adults in relationships with single parents might find this bonding challenging, especially if they have biological children of their own or face complex situations with the other parent.
Despite our own complicated circumstances, I had love to give and no children of my own to receive it. My partner’s children were already receiving love, but she believed they could benefit from even more. Thus, we embraced love openly and wholeheartedly.
Of course, being a bonus parent has its own set of challenges. Our children have two biological parents splitting their time between households, which can be difficult. We cherish the moments we have, even if they aren’t every day. This arrangement teaches us to value our time together, a lesson that many parents learn as their children grow and begin to explore the world.
While I can’t claim that my love for the kids is the same as that of a biological mother, I can say these are the children I’ve chosen to love and support. They have a special place in my heart, and I fiercely protect and nurture them daily. Whether they are right beside me or off pursuing their own adventures, I am endlessly grateful for the mark my bonus kids have left on my life.
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In summary, my experience as a bonus mom has deepened my understanding of love and family. It’s about the connections we forge, not the labels we wear.