I’m a people watcher, I admit it! I believe you can learn more about a person by sitting back and watching them work a room for an hour than you can from having a Q&A session with them. When you ask someone a question it only takes their brain a nanosecond to formulate an answer, and there’s no guarantee the answer is truthful or what they want you to think. But when you watch someone without them knowing? Oh the information you can glean is invaluable!

Several years ago I was vacationing in South Beach, Miami. I was sitting at a beautiful Art Deco bar by the pool while watching people. Each person that walked by was dressed more fabulously than the person in front of them. It was like a parade of youth, beauty, and opulence. One young stunner who looked no more than 21, who had legs like a stallion and a mane to match was wearing a dress that most likely weighed more than her; covered in rhinestones and sequins, with brand new Louboutin silver heels. How did I know they were new? Because every time she sat she made sure to cross her leg and twist her delicate foot so the stoplight red sole of her shoe faced up just enough so that everyone could see the telltale sole of a Louboutin. And that sole somehow had no scratches on it, as if she floated above the ground when she walked. 

I don’t know exactly what made me decide to study her. Maybe it was her beauty and the confidence she carried. Maybe it was how every man shunned their own partner when she walked by, enthralled by everything she was. And she was everything. And she knew it. She sat bathed in her beauty with her slightly less beautiful friends, and not once did I see any of them pay for a drink yet they never were without one. Many men would stop and talk to her and she would lower her head while she looked in their eyes. When she laughed she put her delicate hand over her mouth. 

Eventually a middle aged and very large, and by very large I mean more round than tall, man walked over to them. I saw this playing out in my mind how he would buy her a drink, she would thank him and push him on his way. What I never expected was how she reacted when she saw him. She literally ran over to him, obviously scraping those red soles now, and kissed him. It wasn’t a friendly kiss, rather it was one of those kisses you give to your man when you want to make sure every woman in the room knows he’s yours. She escorted him back to her table and a waiter immediately appeared with a chilled bottle and champagne glasses. He poured her glass first and she threw her legs over his as he ran his eyes down those stallion legs and it looked like he almost petted her shoes. In my mind I pictured him telling her that she has scratches on her red soles so he'll take her for a new pair in the morning. This was a woman who was taken care of, and yet she was barely old enough to be called a woman.  

Throughout the night I watched Red Sole Girl and many girls just like her. None of them were old enough to fund their own outfits, hair extensions, huge diamond hoops or Chanel, Hermes, and Gucci purses. The one thing they all had in common was that they had an older, and most of the time very large man at their side. These men were all well to do, wearing Gucci loafers and Rolex or Patek Philippe watches. And once I left the bar and walked down Ocean Drive I saw some doppelgängers of these men driving their cars, every one being shinier, more expensive, and sleeker than the previous one, and each with their own version of Red Sole Girl in the passenger seat. 

What did I learn about these Red Sole Girls? I learned that they’ve perfected the art of getting what they want, using whatever they have to in the process. They were master manipulators. Their men were all old enough to be their fathers, some more handsome than others, some less (most less). The one thing they had in common was that they were all wealthy and willing to pay to have their egos stroked. 

"What on earth does this long blog post have to do with being a stepparent?" you’re probably asking right now. Well it has to do with what some stepchildren will do to get what they want. By living two separate lives, one with Mom and one with Dad, they’ve learned to be master manipulators to get everything they want. If they want to butter up Dad they’ll tell him how much more they love him than Mom, how Mom doesn’t give them anything, and how they wish they could spend all their time with Dad. When they go back to Mom they tell her how horrible it was at Dad's house and how they were neglected, and Mom will do whatever she can to make them feel better. Now this whole dance with each parent will come with the caveat that they’re confiding in the parent and will never confide in them again if they complain to the other parent about their mistreatment. They’ve just effectively ensured that each parent will give more to make up for the alleged mistreatment their little darling has endured at the hand of their ex. 

I just finished enduring the Easter break marathon with stepspawn, a card carrying member of the Red Sole Girls Club. I resisted the urge to flee to the hills and instead sat back and observed, something I haven’t done for several months now. It was so enlightening to watch stepspawn work her father, no differently than Red Sole Girls worked their old sugar daddies. Every time she stepped into the room with her father she began whatever she had to say with, “So daaadddeeee... I love you! I was wondering if I could....”. Every time he said yes to whatever she wanted she came over to him and ran her hand through his hair and then kissed him, but not before looking at me and smiling. She was marking her territory so that I knew who he belonged to. 

There were several times during the Easter break marathon when stepspawn wanted to do something that I heard her quietly tell her father, "I don’t want her there. Please daaadddeee don’t make me have to deal with her. I love you so much and can’t bear having to share you. You’re the best dad ever!" I laughed each time he would later say to me, “So... I’m going to take Susie and her friend to the mall and then out to eat (or bowling, or wherever the little snot wanted to go). We're going to “wherever" for dinner and I know you don’t like that place so I’m not going to subject you to having to go". 

Tuesday night I had had enough of the bullshit (which had been going on since Friday) and called his bluff. He said he was taking the kids bowling and he knows how I dislike bowling so he’s letting me off the hook. I told him I’d love to give it a try since it really has been years. I think he shit himself. The next excuse was that the other girl's father was going so it was just the guys and kids. I said fine and began planning my next move. 

The other father was driving so I waited by the window as he pulled into the driveway. I noticed it was not just the husband but also the wife. I waited about 5 minutes and then sent a text, "Was that so-and-so sitting in the passenger seat? If it was then let me know where you’re going and I’ll meet you there so you don’t feel like an ass without your partner." He responded, "Why can’t you just let my daughter have a nice night? Can’t she have an outing without you? Are you that selfish?" And with that I packed up and spent the night at my parents. We haven’t spoken since. 

(Side note - I fully believe children need time with their parent. Susie spent Friday with Dad while I went out with friends, Saturday with Dad while I was at my parents, Sunday with Dad while I was with family for Easter, Monday with Dad while I worked, Tuesday with Dad while I sat home, and Wednesday with her friends. So I fully support parent/child time. I don’t support bullshit and lies.)

Before you ask I’ll answer -

As for "uncoupling", it’s not as simple as walking away. We own a home together (yup, I know, dumbass) and have 11 1/2 years of enmeshments that need to be unraveled. He currently does not want to sell the home and also does not want to buy me out. Why would he want his doormat to leave? I’ve been stupid and allowed myself to believe something could change for so long that I’ve just made a mockery of myself. I have an appointment with an attorney next week.