In a 4 year span, I lost my sister and 9 year old nephew (auto accident), two brothers (overdoses) and my elderly mom. Not one word from DHs kids. Had a MAJOR surgery and only "noise" from DHs kids was the oldest (in his 30's at the time) "crying" because daddy couldn't take him to the movies. Lost my precious fur baby with DHs youngest living IN our home at the time. Not a sound. 
 

Your situation is not unusual. Many of us on the board have experienced exactly what you have. All I can say is search the site for boundaries to set, protecting your heart and "girding your loin" for your time in StepHell. 
 

Im at the place where I do NOT want sympathy or anything from DHs kids. While my bio family is very small, my friends have stepped into that role. I get emotional support there. DH's kids are simply his kids and I interact on a civil and superficial basis and only when utterly necessary. 
 

Sometimes I think, why did I tolerate that crap for 12 years???? I would never have let any other human treat me in such a terrible manner and for so long. SMH

Start your research and take care of you. 
 

EDIT: DH and I do not have children together. We were past that stage of life. But I don't think it matters. His family has been kind to me but some of them did stay in contact with the ex, even after her horrid treatment of DH. 

I think I read that you had been in therapy with your DH.. if you are not still in therapy.. working through your feelings of loss would be helpful to you I think.

I get the feeling that you came into this family when his kids were grown or almost grown?  Looking back, these people have seemed to constantly work to keep your DH and his EX in contact and connected.  Your husband has not had great boundaries with communicating with his EX either.

So, these are not people that you can, or should expect to be compassionate to you. And.. I know that sounds unfair and that you would hope that people you have put energy into would care... but they don't.  Is their disinsterest just related to "you".. or is that just how they are with everyone.... it may be that is just how they are.. it could be because they have a problem with "you" in particular because you married dad and ended some fantasy of happily ever after for their parents.

As far as his extended family... for whatever reason, they don't feel connected to you.. and part of that might be your DH not communicating with them about you or them having feelings related to the grandkids.

Because.. yes.. for some families.. not having a bio child is going to mean you are "less than" in some way.. and that is just how they operate.

Again.. I am sorry for your difficulties and loss.. you should be looking for your husband to support you and your own family and friends.. I think you can write off his.

"What do I do moving forward?  Pretend like these people don't even exist?"

Bingo. It sucks because feeling rejected and uncared for hurts, but it's also freeing in that you can stop trying with them. Stop caring. And refocus your energy on people who do care for you. And on the person who is always with you and is your best ally - yourself. 

Disengage from SK. Make it like they don't exist.  Nothing you can do about there crappie behavior. 

It is painful to read this -- both your situation and CajunMom's. And I see that the rest of us are familiar with this sub-primate disgusting behavior, too. I am so sorry! 

It's the ups and the downs and everything in between that these types of soulless-skids ignore. And I know it hurts. I received a brief, super-obligatory forced email from SD that focused on her love for her own mother (who had terrorized us) when my mother died. I responded to her in a way that would naturally have kept the "conversation" going, but she slammed the door. I heard nothing from SS when Mom died. On the flip side, when wonderful things have happened to me that are a big deal, the skids have always hunkered down and didn't dare say a congratulatory word. If you gave my skids a pop quiz about my family, they would only be able to mention MAYBE one or two people. They do not even know how many siblings I have. And DH and I have been together for over 20 years. 

It's mind-boggling to those of us who are NORMAL and feel natural empathy for others. My God, my parents' divorce was ultimately over "the other woman," and, while we were not BFFs, I treated her with respect and kindness. She was always welcome in my home with my Dad, we always exchanged gifts, etc. I just can't wrap my head around the skid behavior so many of us have experienced. 

The way I have dealt with it is to basically erase these little bastads from my life. I've (finally) reached a point of labeling them the sociopathic MONSTER losers they are. I gave them many many chances through the years, as we pretended that "when they are adults" things would change. I very much regret my kindness to them in the past and, like CajunMom, at times wonder why I didn't bolt a long time ago when I was in the midst of it. 

So, yes, ignore and get rid of the bad and pay attention to the good. So sorry for your loss, and I hope you are healing well. 

In my mind I gave it a real good 10 years to get sorted - lots of "water under the bridge", "they are still growing and developing", "give it time." All of it - I did it and I can tell you they never changed - never moved an inch from their position of resentment, hostility and treating me worse than you would treat a stranger. There would be "fleeting" moments of good but the BAD outweighed any good times. What helped me realize "it is what it is" was to allow me to psychologically work myself up to the "last straw." For me I am like the energizer bunny- I just keep going and thinking that showering with love will change the situation- it did not. So...I became pretty angry and resentful but then through that period of hard filled emotions came a time of great observation where I viewed myself as watching them through a crystal ball. I told myself to wait for the "straw that breaks the camels back." And they were happy to stomp all over the camel's back at a horrificly disrespectful dinner experience where even the waitstaff told me to "leave them the bill - they are absolutely disrespecting you & your husband. Complete brats. FOLLOWED BY A PROFANITY." I started blinking my eyes at the waitress of this nice resturant that we were paying to have this nice meal at, realizing this perfect stranger was telling me this is horrible and these adults are AWFUL - that's enough of a sign.

I wish I could say I finally stopped being angry but my anger ROSE to another level that was necessary for my body to begin to associate them with negative feelings. That was actually really important for me- I may not have been outwardly raging at them but I had stuffed my emotions down, I had sacraficed for what I thought was good for the "whole sum" rather than myself- I had essentially put everyone above myself and these emotions flooded up. I did not share it with them and I found a therapist to work through it all. Now I am on the other side and see things clearly for what they are. The anger does not well up as much but I pay attention to that gut feeling. With one of the SKIDs it gets prickly and I feel unsafe- truly. I listen to my body now and the warnings that it's giving off and I put myself first. 

You can try to "kill them with kindness" but having done that myself - it did NOT work. What worked was to save myself, pay attention to my instincts and focus my energy elsewhere rather than throwing it into a giant vat of nothingness. I am still civil - I don't act nasty or mean to them, but I do not give them an inch. Nothing is shared about my life and they don't ask so I simply offer nothing. I also equally take no interest in their lives and I ask DH nothing about them. I suggest you start the path to healing - realizing they are not caring about you is the first step, keep moving towards a healthier outcome. You can do this. 

My skids are the same. They didn't contact their father after his major surgery and recovery either. I don't know how they live with themselves. (I'm all for people cutting ties with abusive and toxic parents, but that is not the case here. DH's "faults" include marrying me and closing his wallet.)

I still spend way too much mental trying to understand them. But mostly I live my best life with my family and friends. If DH wants to see his kids, ok, but don't include me. 

Sorry to hear about your parent passing

This is why I never got emotionally attached to these skids. The average skid could careless. 
 

Detach, detach, detach 

Aw Hon,

So sorry to hear of your loss and I can definitely relate to your sorrow. My kind, loving, generous father died last month and I miss him terribly. My stepson and his wife sent me a huge floral gift, my stepdaughter mailed a heartwarming card and my DH’s sister sent both flowers and a card; their thoughtfulness helped to ease my pain. 

Your skids are cold, uncaring people and, as far as I’m concerned, your husband should have insisted that they make an effort to, at least, send you a sympathy card! No doubt, if you had failed to acknowledge one of the major events in their lives, they’d have been deeply insulted. So, you’ve had that last slap in the face that woke you up to reality and have realized that doing anything for them is like pouring your consideration down a rat-hole. That’s a sad but necessary lesson to learn (((HUGS)))

I am so sorry for your loss and hope your recovery is going well. {{{hugs}}}

Don't give them any more energy than they give you. Treat them like coworkers: be polite, but impersonal. The steps are adults. Ridiculous that they cannot express the tiniest bit of sympathy - that's called Manners.

The best advice I can give you, from experience, is to decide what you are willing to give or do for others, then do no more than that.

In your case, I would STOP doing anything for the stepchildren, but still send gifts or recognize holidays/birthdays for the grandchildren.

Then, drop the rope. Don't call them. Don't initiate anything. If they reach out and want something, decide how helping them would make you feel. If it would make you feel used, say NO. If you would enjoy helping them (grandchildren), say YES. But only agree to things that either won't bother you OR would make you happy on some level.

Be like a cat. Aloof. Doing only what pleases you.

The next step is to let go of trying to understand how people could be so cold and cruel. You can't make sense of it - no point in trying.

Finally, you have to get crystal clear on whose opinion and behavior actually matters. Then, you stop caring about what anyone else thinks. You don't care any longer if a step thinks you're mean for not giving them money. You don't care if they are rude to you because they were poorly raised and their opinion is of little to no value.

It's been liberating for me because I used to walk through this world terribly self conscious and worried about what complete strangers thought of me. I used to care too much about what insignificant people thought of me, I ended up being a people pleaser who couldn't say no. I was miserable and overwhelmed.

Saying NO is delightful once you get the hang of it. Saying NO and having boundaries has made me a very happy person.

Firstly I hope you are on your way to recovery and also I am sorry for your loss.

I agree though. Steps seem to be lacking any empathy or care for SM's. They are users but won't be around when you need support.

I'm not in contact with mine now but sometimes, like just today, a memory comes up of things I did for them, caring, supporting, help, that even their own mother wouldn't do but then I'm either totally ignored and even abused and threatened, lies made up about me etc and presented to the world with a smear campaign just in a sad attempt to get the attention of BM.

I know I'm jaded but I truly believe that it's not worth investing a single moment of time or effort on a skid. Grey rock is the best.

When people show and tell you who they are, believe them.

I am so very sorry for your loss.  

These succubus or incubus demonic asshats are not worthy of your grief at who they choose to be.  Celebrate you, celebrate the lost loved ones.  Write off the demons.  Match their energy in kind with a clear message of what they are and that they are nothing more than something you scrape off of your shoe before he step into the house.   

Scrape them off, leave them outside, and thrive in living your best life.

Like you, I am not mean to anyone. Though I do have a caveat to that.  Until, they make the mistake of departing from reasonable behavior. Then, it is game on, my tolerance is zero, I do not bide their crap, I confront it immediately. That prevents them fostering the mistaken perspective that anything about them will be tolerated if it is not within the bounds of reasonableness. I, am the only one who determines reasonableness.  So, be nice, until it is time to not be nice. Then... bring the consequences to bear with firm resolve.  This is on them, not on us. Never forget that.  I apply this model regardless of their age.  Though I apply consequences in an age appropriate manner.  The older they are, the more stinging the consequences I bring to bear.

Embrace your DH and step forward arm in arm.  Those who do not matter, do not matter.   Only you decide those who matter.

My skids have no compassion—none whatsoever. Not for their parents, and certainly not for me as their stepmother. Of the two, the younger SD is by far the worst. Let me give you a few examples of just how callous these skids can be.

It was like any other day when the skids were with us: the skids would pile into the car without so much as a word. To them, I wasn’t a person—I was just their personal chauffeur, “the thing” that operated the car, invisible unless they wanted something from me.

On that particular day, I planned to take YSD swimming purely out of the goodness of my heart. She was 10 at the time. Before we went swimming, the four of us—me, DH, and the skids—sat down for dinner. Out of nowhere, OSD casually drops the news that their BM had been rushed to the ER from her job with chest pains. She said it like she was quoting some random fact she’d picked up from a TikTok video—completely emotionless.

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“She’s at home.”

Concerned, I asked, “Is anyone with her now?”

OSD shrugged and said, “No, she’s all alone.”

I turned to DH and said the obvious: “The girls should go home and be with her then.”

That’s when YSD shot me a look that could kill. The anger in her eyes was disturbing, and it hit me like a punch to the gut. I tried to smooth things over by saying, “We can go swimming another time,” thinking it would ease the situation. But the rage in her expression didn’t fade.

I got up from the table, having lost my appetite, and went to unload the dryer. As I was going about my business, I felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of my head. I turned around, and there she was—YSD, hands on her hips, staring me down like she wanted to end me right then and there. The level of disdain and anger in that small child’s gaze was unsettling, to say the least.

When YSD was 15, OSD had already moved in full-time with BM and was estranged from DH. During this time, YSD mostly stayed holed up in her room, glued to her TikTok and social media accounts, oblivious to the world around her.

One evening, DH was doubled over in severe pain, and I was supporting him, guiding him down the hallway toward the stairs. His pain was so intense that we had to stop before we even reached the stairs. He paused, wincing, and managed to say, “Toaster is taking me to the ER,” before doubling over again.

YSD’s room was directly across the hallway from the top of the stairs. Sitting on her bed with her phone in hand, YSD acted as though she hadn’t heard her father’s cry for help. It was as if he’d causally said, “Toaster and I are going for a joy ride.” There was no reaction, no flicker of concern, no questions—just complete indifference.

I looked at her and said, “Your father is very ill.” Still, there was nothing. Not a hint of care or worry in her eyes. She stayed rooted to her bed, scrolling away on her phone as if nothing had happened.

DH and I struggled down the stairs by ourselves, YSD didn’t even offer to help. It was like we were invisible, like her own father’s suffering meant absolutely nothing. I got him into the car, and we drove to the hospital—just the two of us, while she stayed back, lost in the digital world, utterly detached from her own father’s sufferings.

That night, the ER doctor admitted DH to the hospital for a ruptured appendix. The next morning, BM came to pick up YSD, leaving me alone at the hospital with DH.

Despite the fact that his entire family—his mother, siblings, everyone—had already reached out to check on him, neither of his daughters had shown any concern.

By late morning, DH was growing frustrated—after several failed attempts to reach his daughters, he asked me to try contacting them. YSD, who already knew he was in the hospital, but didn’t show any concern for DH, I didn’t bother with. So, I turned my focus to OSD. Both DH’s mother and I spent the morning texting OSD, practically begging her to get in touch with her father.

After hours of silence, OSD finally called me. She spoke to DH for all of—what?—three minutes, before cutting the conversation short. She was in a hurry to get off the phone, as if her father’s health was nothing more than an inconvenient blip in her day.

Throughout the entire eight days DH spent in the hospital, there was not a single additional call or message from either of the skids. It was as if their father’s hospitalization was completely irrelevant to them, a heartbreaking display of indifference.

I think its dawning on DH that the only family he has is me followed by his siblings and parents.

If these skids don’t care even for their parents, they care less for me, their step-slave.

Oh, I forgot to mention: during this time, BM had sent OSD to a local theater for acting lessons. The school was putting on a show at the end of the summer, and guess what comedy skit OSD had planned? She was going to mock obese people. The irony? Her very own mother—BM, the Golden Uterus who birthed and housed these two ingrates—is obese herself.

It’s almost laughable in its absurdity. The lack of awareness or basic respect, even for her own mother, was staggering. But in typical fashion, OSD’s priority was getting a cheap laugh, no matter how insensitive or inappropriate. It was just another example of the skewed values that seemed to run rampant in the cult leader’s BM’s household.

Going on with your life and not giving skids nor DH's fam that sides with the BM the time of day.   Chef's relatives are all social media linked with the Girhippo 'n' Clan.  I have told Chef many times to be careful what he says around because it will get back to the Girhippo.   Out of all of Chef's many half siblings, all but two sided with the Girhippo.  Oh well, fewer wedding, Xmas, bday, etc gifts to purchase IMHO.

DW and her ExH lost their second child (SS21) years ago and I was there for my wife when it all happened. If you read my first blog it was a mess. Unfortunately this is not unusual for SK's to behave like this. It sucks so badly.