When I first met SD I was full of love for her, but now, two years later, I'm really struggling.

As a college student her mother had mental health and well-concealed drug issues and took to prostituting herself to support her habit. My boyfriend, who had major commitment issues back then, hired her once and then had a brief fling with her, but stopped seeing her after a couple of weeks when her paranoia came out. A short while later she informed him she was pregnant. He didn’t trust that the child was his and demanded a paternity test, which the woman refused. After a three-year legal battle he was able to prove paternity and thereafter he sent money and visited his daughter regularly while the mom drifted in and out of normalcy.

Finally the little girl came to live with her father in the big city at age 9 after a very unstable childhood of constant moving. Mom remarried twice, first to a man then a woman, was arrested, hospitalized multiple times, even attempted suicide.

After the move, the girl no longer had much contact with the mother, and her father had a demanding job so he hired a Hispanic nanny who raised the girl from age 9 till age 11. The dad was loving beyond measure to his daughter but, being older (in his early 50s), and completely inexperienced with children, he spoiled her rotten and then would get upset when she misbehaved and scream at her. SD watched so much television during that time that she has seen every single children's show and movie on Netflix, and was watching some of them a second time. She still wore a diaper to bed and wet it every night throughout that period. She had tantrums whenever her father said no to her or criticized her. She saw a psychologist weekly for two years. Screaming was a daily occurrence in the home. She treated her nanny like she was less than human, throwing horrific tantrums and never apologizing. Her bedtime was 10pm, she watched R-rated movies regularly, ate large amounts of candy and despite seeing tutors three days a week struggled in school and was unpopular. She had tremendous need for attention and would never stop talking or asking random questions.

I brought a lot of love and stability into their home, as well as discipline. I taught the little girl manners, from the simplest things like saying please and thank you, to table manners. I taught her how to tie her hair (at age 11 she still didn’t know how to make a pony tail). I taught her to write in cursive (her handwriting at 11 was worse than a 7-year old’s). I taught her about money – she didn’t understand why she couldn’t have a $500 object she fancied in an antique store. I had her stop wearing diapers and soon she stopped the nightly bed-wetting, although she still wets the bed about once a week now she’s 12. I also bought her gifts and gave her lots of attention. I organized her birthday parties and started a private website for her, where I post her photos for her mother and grandmother to see. I gave her lots of love and care, ignoring the tantrums, but as with everyone else, she repeatedly tested my limits.

And then one day she said “I hate you!” for something minor, I forget what, not being allowed dessert maybe. Her words really hurt me, more than I ever expected. I tried to rationalize, every kid says I hate you to their parents, it’s nothing. But it really broke my heart. I cried and struggled to get over it. I found myself not wanting to show affection any more. I had fallen out of love with her. I continued to be kind but I no longer had patience for her attention-seeking antics. I tried to fight that in me, because my relationship with her dad was strong, and I occasionally managed to soften my heart, but it was never the same as before.

We all moved in together into a different home in another town after a year. My children, aged 6 and 7, moved in with us as well. Their dad had moved to another continent recently so they had hurt of their own to deal with.

But time is a big healer. SD has her own room, and has made friends at the new school. Her grades are getting better too. The tantrums have all but disappeared. My SO, who left his old bachelor life behind long ago, adores me and is deeply grateful to me. He is also very loving with my kids.

We have new challenges now. Blending the two families, treating everyone equally while respecting age differences, dealing with the constant bickering between the three children. I try to be loving to my SD too but I find myself struggling even to look her in the eyes, and can't even bring myself to give her a good night kiss. Meanwhile I've grown extremely close to my own children, and absolutely live for them now.

I am considering therapy to try to get over this.

We are very happy otherwise.

Any words of wisdom?

Teenagehood is around the corner.