I really don’t like one of my stepchildren any more. I’ve known him almost two decades, since he was a child. When we met, I had this maternal instinct toward him. I’d wake when he fell out of bed, step in front of an oncoming car so he wouldn’t get hit (the car stopped in time, so I didn’t either). You get the idea. I really loved him. I was so happy to play with him and encourage him. But he just hated on me. For years I’d come up with excuses. I blamed his mom for being a b**** to me. He didn’t want to displease her, so he hated on me. Slapping, spitting, trying to poke my eyes out…It got better for a few months after almost seven years and then bam! He fell into the wrong crowd and drugs and crime. He lied, manipulated, stole, vandalized, and, worst of all, brought fellow criminals home. I mean criminals. One of his pals set fire to a house and killed several people. Others beat up misbehaving criminal cohorts. Scary stuff, and they knew where I lived. The stepson changed only in the sense that he learned to manipulate better–he kept his so-called friends straight through getting arrested, charged, and put on probation, through detention camp, through rehab, and right up to so-called adult life and a criminal lifestyle complete with threatening phone calls on his second cell phone, gang retaliation, and more. Oh, yeah–his criminal buddies know where I live. This guy is just so abusive and manipulative. His mother raised him; I don’t feel responsible. I wanted to help him and then I just wanted a relationship, and really, now with all he’s done (he’s not nice as well as not honest), I don’t know if I like him any more.