I'm closing the door..feel free to jump out the window

I became a stepmother at age 20. Ok, technically we didn't get married until I was 24, but my (now) husband and stepson moved in with me when I was 20.

I've come to understand that pretty much every couple that's ever had a baby and then split up has a slightly different experience with the whole "co-parenting" thing. Some manage to be civil - even amicable. Others...not so much. (If you Google "non-custodial parent" you'll get more than half a million results and plenty of them are horror stories.)

My husband spent his senior year of high school in court fighting for custody of his son, which he won despite our family court system being skewed to protect the rights of the mother (I admit this is probably often a good thing, but not always). Without going into all the gory details, let's just say that some people shouldn't have children. And that - omitting the murderous types - his mother is, in my opinion, the worst kind of bad parent because rather than getting out of the picture completely, she shows up just often enough to hurt him, again and again.

As I think probably many stepmoms do, at some point over the last 13 years, I slipped into the role of mediator between my husband and his ex - and even sometimes between my stepson and his mother. I would convey the logistical messages needed to conduct visitation every other weekend, collect on medical bills, and generally keep her informed of her son's well-being when necessary.

I didn't do it because anyone asked me to, I did it in the interest of keeping the peace...and more importantly, because it was something I could do to make things just a little easier for my stepson, who would await her visits with a mix of trepidation and cautious optimism - like maybe this time, she would be the mom he deserved. At her best, she was misguided and neurotic. At her worst, she was negligent and abusive.

As he got older, the teenager evolved his own boundaries with his mother (ending visitation), but we've still been tethered to her by a court order. She's stopped speaking to my husband completely, asking for me even when he answers the phone. I've been more than patient with her, speaking to her for longer than required and even lending a semi-sympathetic ear when she has delusionally attempted to tell me about her drunk husband, deadbeat baby daddies, and financial woes.

I'll admit that I have always approached these conversations with a combination of dread and curiosity. How I would love to figure out what makes her tick...to understand how a mother (of five!) can be so decidedly non-maternal and utterly clueless. This is a woman who would tell you with complete sincerity that she could not possibly have had anything to do with her son's emotional issues because she wasn't really around that much.

The point of all of this is to say that amid all the bittersweetness that surrounds the teenager growing up and graduating from high school, there is a wholly sweet side to it: The end of the non-custodial parent drama.

Sure, her life will always be filled with homemade drama, but no longer does it have to be part of my life!

Yes, when it comes to the teenager's birth mother, I have officially stepped down from my role as mediator, shoulder-to-cry-on and carrier pigeon. This means I also have to resign as amateur psychologist, but with the teenager's budding interest in psychology (for real!), he may end up picking up where I left off one day...she could be the star of his thesis.

But I am not just announcing this fact to you, dear readers. I am proud to say that I took the emotionally healthy step of seeking closure with this woman who has been the source of so much anxiety over the years.

I'll stop short of a full transcript, but the day after graduation, I called her and hit the following key messages:

1. Everything I have ever done for you, was done only because I believed it was in his best interest
2. Now that he is an adult I am officially done playing mediator
3. I hope you two find a way to have a healthy relationship someday because until then, you will continue to hurt him
4. This concludes our business together. The end.

In case you're wondering, her response was mostly one of surprise, though she did say thank you before we hung up. I'm not kidding myself into thinking I will never hear from her again, but the heavy lifting is D-O-N-E.

It would be impossible to sum up the journey I've been on with her here (maybe one day I'll write a book). And I know that my experience is just a sliver of what the teenager has been through with her (maybe he'll write a book), but...

To finally be able to say it's over, case closed (literally), please let's never speak again...it brings me relief beyond words. Relief and happiness and a lightness of being.

Closure is a very, very good thing.