By Julie Tully
Age is just a number. That’s what popular culture tells us. Or at least what the media that is targeted to those of us who are of a certain age tells us. Forty is the new thirty. Fifty the new forty. Heck, the Golden Girls? They wouldn’t even be considered golden by today’s standards.
Age is just a number.
Unless you’re a military spouse.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve never felt as self-conscious about my numerical marker as when I view it from my position as a military spouse.
Being a military-spouse-of-a-certain-age, lately I’ve felt like I’m wearing a big scarlet letter on my chest, but it’s not the “A” of Hawthorne’s tale, rather it’s an “O” for old. The gate guards, the majority of whom are young enough to be my children, betray no irony when they greet me with “ma’am” as I present my ID. And beyond those “ma’am’s” I might as well be invisible as I walk around a base. No readiness classes target my particular demographic. None of the gyms offer “Yoga for Middle Age” or “Aerobics for Bone Density”. The exchange offers little beyond Red Bull, Slim Jims, and Flaming Hot Cheetos. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that spouses-of-certain-age didn’t exist within the military.
How is it that as our service members get older, as their rank increases, they gain more respect and become more visible? They become inescapable. The full-birds, the crusty chiefs, the flag officers that wear their age as a badge along with their stars. Yet, as the accompanying military spouse grows older they fade into the background and become invisible.
It’s the inverse of what life outside the military bubble promises us. Oprah talks about owning our age and not letting others dictate our worth through years. Brene Brown encourages us to be vulnerable and have the courage to show up. Women are leaning in and taking charge, working for the lives they want and speaking up. But for a military spouse it’s not always that easy.
When your life involves uncertainty, it’s hard to keep the momentum going. How can you lean in and take charge when you’ve had to take some gap years from your career or find yourself starting the same job at the same level again because a PCS got in the way of climbing the ladder? It’s hard to flaunt our age-defying act when our age is seemingly what holds us back.
I will leave you with this—as we talk of change for military spouses, of empowerment and agency, let’s not forget those of us who’ve been part of this life for years. While I can say, “I see you, young spouse, and you’ll be okay” could the younger spouses return the acknowledgement and say, “we see you and you’re not forgotten”? Can the military remember that we’re still here?