It's taken ten years for me to face up to the fact that I'm a step-dad.

Ever since Cinderella's dysfunctional family shot into the public eye, I'm afraid that step-parents have had a bad press. And unlike the 'real thing', it seems that the story just keeps on repeating itself.  Feelings of jealousy and resentment abound and no one can quite find their place.

Ten years that I've been playing this supporting role to one of our children and, to be honest, I don't think I've done much to alter the reputation of our breed.  Looking back, in fact, I only seem to be able to remember the days when we sat looking at each other from across the dinner table, as if existing in different worlds.

Of course, I never refer to myself as a 'step-dad'.  That feels far too Dickensian and, unlike poor Cinderella, her 'real' dad still lives just around the corner.  At the same time, though, I have begun to think that this whole business of step-parenting is appropriately summed up in the name.

Let me explain with four simple, connected ideas.

1. Step in parenting

It all starts when we step into the gap left by a parent that's no longer around.  Rarely is it our primary motivation for sitting around the family table.  It just comes with the territory of this new relationship. 

And within a matter of days we find ourselves making the packed lunches, doing the school run, and reading bedtime stories in a language that is not our own.  We want to make this work - so for the love of another, we roll up our sleeves and rush right in.

2. Step back parenting

To the outsider - those who naively observe us in the local supermarket - we'll soon resemble any other 'normal' family as we discuss the merits of still and sparkling water in isle 17.  Truthfully, though, if you had interrupted and interrogated me at any time during the past ten years, I'd have probably said that I was nothing more than an 'extra' in this particular episode of family life.  I'd have taken you to one side and told you in no uncertain terms that I was still waiting for the permanent contract.

What I wouldn't have told you was how difficult I was finding being a 'pretend' dad to a young child whose 'real' dad would regularly knock on the door unannounced.  As she ran into his arms, all I could do was  step back into the shadows and reflect on how fake I felt.

3. One step away parenting

Have you ever tried to build a house of cards. Despite what you see on the tv, it's hard to get beyond three cards.  And rather than being an enjoyable pastime, you tend to spend most of your time picking up the pieces and arranging back them in their proper order.

I don't know about you, but I have a growing feeling that the same is true with step-parenting.  No matter how carefully, how sensitively, we build the relationship, we face an almost impossible construction task. We dream that one day we'll build the Eiffel Tower, but in truth we're only ever one tiny step away from collapse and those dreadful, menacing, show-stopping words. 

You're not my real dad, anyway!

Even if I've been a step parent since forever - at least as far as my children are concerned - the absence of those blood ties appears to be a chronic, destabilising factor in the story of our family that constantly leads us straight back to square one. 

4. Step by step parenting

So how does this story end?  It's clear to me now that the odds are stacked against the likes of us; and, equally, that I'm not going to be voted 'Step-Dad of the Year' any time soon.

And yet I haven't given up hope.  I haven't lost sight of the goal that, when we both look back on the family life we had, we'll consider ourselves fortunate to have shared the same table, been part of the same story, and written our futures together.

And for now, I'll simply focus on being a one-step-at-a-time parent, waiting for my big break.

Have you spotted the pattern yet? 

Launching their careers in a blaze of sexual appeal, social angst and rebellion against the status quo, there comes a time when almost every male performing artist will decide to give up the campaign and travel upon a more reflective path.

More often than not, the experience of becoming a dad is the turning point; opening up a whole new world of vulnerability, responsibility and emotional turmoil that is just too good not to sing about.

There are lots of great examples out there to choose from.  Who can forget Cat Steven’s melody of advice from a father to his son?

It's not time to make a change,
Just sit down, take it slowly.
You're still young, that's your fault,
There's so much you have to go through.
Find a girl, settle down,
if you want you can marry.
Look at me, I am old, but I'm happy.

And if that isn’t to your musical taste, you really can’t go wrong with Sting.  He has an uncanny ability to capture those everyday parenting moments in haunting, harmonious lyrics:  

Hush child,
Let your mommy sleep into the night until we rise
Hush child,
Let me soothe the shining tears that gather in your eyes
Hush child,
I won't leave I'll stay with you to cross this Bridge of Sighs
Hush child,
I can help the look of accusation in your eyes
In your eyes

French singer-songwriter, Pascal Obispo, got in on the act too with his smash hit, Millésime, following the birth of his child, drawing parallels between fatherhood and the producing great wine:

Tu es mon millésime
Ma plus belle année
Pour ce bonheur en prime
Que tu m'a donné
Je suis à jamais ta terre
C'est ça être père

You get the picture.  And most of us dads will, at some time or another, have been moved – perhaps even to tears – as these poetic portrayals of parenthood resonate with our own stories and bring meaning to the father we are and the father we are trying to be.

Watching Peter Andre on the television this week, however, I saw another variation on this rather lucrative theme.  Somehow, though, I felt that what I was watching was a far less glamorous, far more complex, dramatization of what it means to be a dad these days.

As if anyone didn’t know, the celebrity Couple that was Peter Andre and Katie Price split up earlier this year.  Those of us who might have enjoyed watching (even making fun of) their media-obsessed relationship over the years suddenly found ourselves watching a very different kind of drama: divorce TV. 

We were into a new kind of story with complex human themes emerging.  And at the heart of the story, a song that somehow seemed to capture the pain and deep, deep irony of the whole situation - a love song of unconditional love, written by a dad for a child that, since the split, was no longer considered his ‘own’.

It’s not the best song in the world and certainly may not be to everyone’s taste, but personally I respect the fact that Peter Andre is prepared to wear his heart on his sleeve:

I was already there, just in another place
Destiny had brought us face to face
What I didn't realize, how you'd change my life
Turning from a boy to a man, becoming a father before I became a dad
I wish I was there for your first breath
I wish I'd have held you for your first step
But I'm here now…

The message of the song is clear.  Here is a man who has stepped into the role of ‘dad’ for a child who faced many challenges ahead and desperately needed any kind of unconditional love.  It was a fairytale, from beginning to end.

Yet divorce always betrays the fairytale as a myth.

I have to be honest.  Watching Peter Andre record the video for this latest song on TV this week, I was struck by a man who seemed not to be your average ‘pop star’ but a man on a journey; a step-dad, struggling with the fact that the child he had come to love as his own was no longer present in his life as before.

Being a dad is tough.  We all know that.  Being a step-dad is tougher.  A lot of us know how challenging that can be.  But being a step-dad to a child in the context of a relationship breakdown is perhaps the toughest job of all.

And in that sense, I think Peter Andre happens to be doing pretty well.