Dear Military Spouse,
I know you did not actually know what you were getting into when you started this life of military marriage. I know you simply loved your servicemember and wanted a life together, however that looked. But no one prepared you for this.
I know you didn’t expect to give up your career. To join a population that suffers from unemployment at 38%, which is ten times the national average. I know you had a whole life and future planned before your support for your servicemember meant you had to walk away from any stable employment you might get, over and over again.
I know you didn’t understand how tricky it would be to get adequate medical care, or to create continuity of care while you live like a nomad.
I know you have passion and talents and hopes for your future, yet you feel invisible. Somewhere between being Mr./Mrs. Servicemember’s Spouse and being Default Parent to your child, you feel like you’ve lost track of yourself. And if we’re being honest, I know you don’t even know where to start looking for what’s lost.
I know that you spend hours late at night, waiting for the “landed” text message or to hear the gear dropped at the front door after a late return home.
I know that you avoid the news and dodge questions from friends and family about timelines and locations of your favorite person on the planet when they are away.
I know you didn’t realize how hard it would be to raise your babies far away from home. I know you had no way to know what it meant to hold a colicky infant, with a toddler that won’t sleep due to ear infection, with a servicemember gone again, and your support network hundreds or thousands of miles away.
I know you didn’t anticipate all the Christmas celebrations alone or the birthday parties with faces that change with each location while your favorite people back home continue to not be a part of your babies’ lives. I know you’re exhausted from covering for the far away people when your kids ask why your people don’t visit where you are. I know that secretly, you feel heartbroken and forgotten.
I know that you did not realize that starting a family would actually mean that you’re sometimes raising that family without the parent who’s supposed to be in it with you. That no matter where you live, or who your community is, that you will be the one constant for your children. Every tantrum. Every doctor’s appointment. Every single teacher conference. You’re always there, picking up the pieces and holding everyone together.
I know you didn’t want to ever feel like you couldn’t feed your family, yet we know that 1 in 4 military families are struggling to put adequate food on the table.
I know that you’re exhausted from keeping track of all-the-things. The birthdays and bills and anniversaries and food allergies and teacher emails and medical records and where your servicemember put their PT belt.
I know you have so many lists, websites, and Zillow searches saved on your phone. You spend your time, energy, and emotion planning for each new location. How to make the kids feel safe and secure, how to set up home-again, and how to build community- again. I know you devote all of your being to serving your servicemember and your kids, which leaves little of you leftover for yourself.
I know that each new community will be full of potential new friends who don’t want to get entangled with your life because you’ll “just move away,” and that makes you feel like maybe you’re not meant to have friends at that duty station.
I know that sometimes you’re called a “dependa.” That you’re seen as a non-contributor, the punchline in the jokes, the freeloader.
I know that sometimes you look at your non-military friends and family and you covet the easy, consistent, predictable life they have.
I know that you sometimes question if you’re making the right decisions for your family as you live out this military life. I know that you are also proud of your servicemember, your kids, and the life of service you live out together.
I know that you secretly are counting down the days to civilian life while also being terrified of what that means for your identity. Who will you be when you’re not Mr./Mrs. Servicemember’s Spouse and Default Parent? Will there even be any of you left?
I also know that despite all of this, you wouldn’t change the life you’ve built with your servicemember for the world.
I know. Me too.