My name is Marissa Adams and my story has been full of highs and lows. I was born in Fresno, California, but I grew up in San Diego. My mom raised me by herself and I didn’t meet my dad until I was seventeen. My mom struggled with mental illness, and my dad was a Marine who battled addiction and spent time in and out of prison. Life wasn’t simple, but it was mine.
When I was twenty, I found out I was pregnant after dating my boyfriend for only six months. It shocked me. I didn’t even want kids and thought I might not be able to have them. At that time, I was living carelessly, making decisions I wouldn’t be proud of today. But the moment I learned I was going to be a mother, I changed everything. I got a job and started focusing on becoming responsible so I could take care of my baby.
My daughter’s father didn’t change. He kept drinking, doing drugs, and chasing his dream of being a rapper and fashion designer. He refused to work. Thankfully, his family helped with clothes, diapers, and even threw me a baby shower. At eight months pregnant, I went back to college because I knew a minimum wage job wasn’t enough. My mom and our family daycare provider, Mrs. Alston, supported me. She had cared for me when I was a child, and now she cared for my baby. Knowing my daughter was safe with her gave me peace.
Working and studying paid off. I got better hours and better pay, and eventually, I moved into my own apartment. Life was busy, but I managed to raise my daughter and keep going to school.
In 2011, my twin sister and a close friend convinced me to join Facebook. I wasn’t interested in social media, but I gave it a try. Soon after, I reconnected with my high school best friend, Anthony. Back in 2001, he had even proposed to me, but I was too young and not ready for marriage. He left for the military, and although we didn’t talk often over the years, he always reached out to me and reminded me he cared.
When we started talking again, it felt natural. We shared our struggles as single parents, and slowly our friendship turned into something more. Within six months, we went from being old friends to being in a relationship. That summer, I packed up my daughter and we flew to Virginia to start a new life with him. It was scary, but I believed in us.
Things were tough in the beginning. My daughter wasn’t used to sharing me, and she didn’t like another man in our home. Anthony was also dealing with constant problems with his son’s mother, who often kept their child from scheduled visits. Later, she even moved out of the state without telling him. Watching him fight to be in his son’s life while being pushed away was painful.
After many battles, Anthony was awarded custody of his son. The judge said the mother wasn’t putting her child first, and that day is still etched in my mind. Seeing her cry broke my heart, but I also knew it was the best decision for the child.
The court struggles didn’t stop. His son’s grandmother kept filing cases against Anthony, sometimes with false accusations. CPS was even called on us, though nothing was ever proven. Almost every year, we found ourselves back in court. It was draining, but we pushed through.
Through it all, I learned how stepmothers are often judged harshly. People want to tell you what you can and cannot do. But I wasn’t just a stepmom from a distance. I was raising my stepson every day. I was responsible for him in every way, and that made me his mother too, no matter what anyone said.
Anthony and I made a promise to each other: our children would not grow up in chaos. They would not need to heal from their childhood. We made sure they had therapy, encouraged good relationships with all parents, and gave them stability. We took family trips, created memories, and built a life full of love.
Now, after eleven years of marriage and nine years of full custody, we are one family. A blended family, yes, but a strong one. We are not perfect. We make mistakes. But we always put our children first.
If I could give advice to anyone in a blended family, it would be this: focus on the kids. Don’t waste energy proving yourself or fighting battles that don’t matter. Keep your home full of love and peace. Be the bigger person, even when it’s hard.
Because in the end, what your children will remember isn’t the court battles or the arguments. They will remember the love, the safety, and the fact that they were cared for every single day.
