• Growing up, I knew I wanted to get married, but wasn’t sure I’d have kids.
• When I met my husband, he had a daughter already, and I was surprised by my connection to her.
• I found that I love being a stepmom.

In seventh grade, we were tasked with writing an autobiography. My sunflower-fabric-adorned masterpiece still lives at my parents’ house, tucked away in a cabinet among photo albums and newspaper clippings.

I pulled it out not long ago and flipped through the pages. Twelve-year-old me imagined I’d go to grad school and become a journalist (check and check). I was surprised by how accurately I saw myself, even at a young age.

Then I came to my projections page, where I mused, “I don’t know if I would like to have children, but I hope to get married.”

It’s now 27 years later, and not much has changed. As I prepare to enter my 40s, I’ve had moments of the proverbial “baby fever,” but it always fades. I’m an introvert who’s solidly protective of my solo time, and I always assumed that meant that all manner of parenting would be a no-go for me.

So you can imagine my surprise when I met my now-stepdaughter a few years ago and discovered I thoroughly enjoy being a parent figure in her life.

I never expected to become a stepmom, but I’m glad I did

I stumbled into all of it and met my husband, Davey, on a dating app while attempting to make platonic guy friends. It quickly became romantic, and I felt an internal push-pull. I wanted to grow our relationship, but I was also terrified to meet his daughter, and he was rightfully concerned about introducing any romantic partners to his child.

But when I did meet her the summer after she finished kindergarten, it went well. We all hung out a couple more times, and she started asking about me and inviting me to things. I felt a connection with her; she’s curious, inquisitive, and fun. I often get compliments now from strangers on her “bright energy,” and that stood out to me back then, too.

Davey and I got engaged, and we moved in together. We were married a year later. I officially became a stepmom, and — though I told my husband I didn’t want to be expected to do hands-on parenting if I didn’t want to — I embraced my new role.

Parenting has expanded my life

I enjoy so many things about parenting. I’m more present in my life because I don’t want to miss her excitement during new experiences. I’m more involved in my community because I want to make sure she’s exposed to as many things as possible. I’m more patient and thoughtful because I want to be a good example.

It’s been amazing to watch my family welcome her and see my parents become grandparents for the first time. I’ve developed new friendships with moms that I wouldn’t have otherwise; as much as we want to believe that friendships can transcend circumstance, it’s just a fact that you’re more exposed to people in the same season of life as you.

Recently, a friend asked me what my childcare responsibilities are, and I rattled off some things: I pack school lunches, plan playdates and sleepovers, figure out our travel schedule, and help her pick outfits. I do homework with her after school and create quizzes to help her master key concepts. I helped teach her to ride a bike, and I manage her extracurricular activities.

That’s all the logistical stuff, but I also talk to her about big topics like God and spirituality and feelings like pride and humility. We make gratitude lists together and talk about everything she wants to do in the future (so far, she wants to be a baker and maybe adopt a kid someday).

Being a stepmom is the best of both worlds

Not long ago, Davey and I questioned whether we should expand our family. My stepdaughter asks for a sibling, and sometimes I think, “I’m already parenting, right?”

Yet I can’t deny that as much as I love our family, I also love the built-in breaks that come with split custody. We have our downtime, and we each get to have our own interests without sacrificing family time or arranging childcare. It’s the best of both worlds, and it’s working for me right now.

This past summer, we went to the beach. My stepdaughter followed me into the ocean and wrapped her arms around me. “Everything’s better when I’m with you and my dad,” she said, and my heart exploded. It’s moments like those that make me feel so lucky to have this opportunity.

Yes, I may have always seen myself as child-free, but I don’t anymore. I am a stepmom — a bonus parent, but still a parent, and a role that feels right for me.