When I met my future wife in 2018, I had no idea I was also meeting my future son. At first, I was just the boyfriend who came around sometimes. She shared custody with her ex 60/40, which worked – until it didn’t.

Within six months, my stepson was living with us almost full time. Overnight, I went from single guy, to serious boyfriend, to Dad.

It wasn’t official at first, of course. My son didn’t call me “Dad” – he called me “Granty,” a nickname that felt uniquely ours. He told kids at school he had a Mommy and a Granty. I never pushed him to change that.

I grew up in a blended family myself, and I know what a loaded word “Dad” or “Mom” can be. Those words carry history. They carry choice.

What I didn’t expect was how many people – especially other men – had opinions about my role. Some were supportive. Others were judgmental. And then there were the ones that landed like little paper cuts – small on the surface, but painful just the same.

Here are the five rudest things people say to stepparents – and why they miss the mark.

‘I could never do that.’

This is often said with wide-eyed awe, as if I’ve taken up an extreme sport or become a monk.

Paediatric therapist Lauren Weissler, LMSW, who is also the child of a stepfather herself, said this rudeness often comes from the side of the family that feels as though they are being replaced or the child themselves.

“Yes, it is common for friends of the stepparent to question their reasoning/sanity for taking on the responsibility of a human being who is not ‘theirs’ biologically,” Weissler says, “but they’re not in love with that child’s parent (ahem, hopefully), and maybe they have the depth of a puddle and cannot think beyond the concept of what media has historically shown us the ‘traditional’ family is.”

Yes, stepping into fatherhood with a child who isn’t biologically mine required commitment. But that doesn’t make me a saint. It makes me…a parent. One who happened to fall in love with a woman who already had a kid.

I didn’t wake up one day and say, Today I shall take on another man’s child for the greater good of humanity. No. It happened slowly, then all at once. I fell in love with my wife. I got to know her son. I showed up. I stayed.

“People with opinions are most often projecting their own unwillingness to commit and be vulnerable, onto the person who is emotionally brave and secure enough to step up (pun intended),” concludes Weissler. “This is entirely fear-based which quite honestly fuels many opposing views related to lack of understanding or willingness to understand.”

‘Well, I wouldn’t want to take care of someone else’s kid.’

This one stings more than people realise. It’s usually men who say it, and it lands as both a critique and a confession.

When I hear it, I think: If you can’t imagine loving a child who isn’t yours, I’m sorry – for you. Because you’re missing out.

My oldest son may not share my DNA, but he shares my life. I........

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