One of the hardest parts of our new reality was explaining our family to outsiders. “This is Claudia Valenzuela,” I’d say, “my stepmother.” Then came the inevitable questions about my father, about why Claudia wore a wedding ring but never mentioned a husband. Strangers would look at us—a young woman with an infant and a teenage boy—and assume I was the father. The confusion was constant, and sometimes exhausting.
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