The Unconventional Guide to Your Young Military Marriage

When I got married to a young Marine at 22, we were both as “boot” as boot gets.

Now, almost two years on, I hardly possess more than an ounce of practical wisdom about the military world. I barely know what my husband does at work every day (I used to ask, when he started his MOS school, but I quickly tuned out when he started talking about radio frequencies and all that technical mumbo jumbo). My mind turns blank as soon as he and his coworkers start talking in military jargon. I still don’t know exactly what all the different uniforms are called, how many chevrons maketh a Staff Sergeant, or what the official on-base dress code entails.

(( Marrying Young is a Military Tradition ))

But I do, at least, have a handle on handling myself through this life.

As a military spouse, in the eyes of the world around me, I am a dependent. Dependent. The word makes me dry heave; it doesn’t even begin to do justice to the amount of ambitious, intelligent, motivated military spouses I’ve met over the past couple of years, or even the person that I see when I look in the mirror. In many cases, “dependent” feels entirely irrelevant. And, honestly, the connotations of “dependent” are pathetic at best; I have flippantly wondered, at times, why we couldn’t at least be “sidekicks,” or something a little less impotent.

But the key thing I’ve learned is that being “ a dependent” and acting dependent are entirely different things.

You don’t need me to tell you that new military couples face a veritable avalanche of challenges, of course. But as a fellow dependent, I thought I’d give a little advice that might not be in your typical LINKS program: How to shake off the “dependent” mentality and become a stronger, more badass person in the meantime.

Strike a social balance.

Some days you’ll feel like a million dollars, and some days you’ll feel like you’d rather hibernate under a woobie than put on a smile and go to that unit function. To hell with it: Don’t feel like you have to volunteer, bake 500 cookies, or run yet another charity 5k just because you feel like you ought to .

Yes, there are the eternally peppy military spouses who bustle furiously from event to event, but you don’t need to be this way, especially not as a total noob. It is okay to say “no.” No-one is going to judge you for opting out of optional activities. Your level of involvement with the community is allowed to fluctuate.

Social media is your biggest frenemy.

I recall a friend posting a photo of her engagement and wedding rings on Instagram; they are beautiful pieces of jewelry, let that first be said. Then I noticed that one of her friends had commented underneath, “It makes mine look so small!”

Engagement rings, weddings, income, babies, pets, relationships, promotions…all of it inevitably seeps into the realm of social media at some point. While Facebook et al are super awesome, useful tools for keeping in touch with your ( vastly increasingly ) network of friends and family, it’s also a place where negative comparison festers prolifically. So your friend has a bigger rock, or another couple get annual Pinterest-worthy photoshoots, or [insert point of interest here]? So what? Don’t let social media bog you down. There’s so much else that happens behind the scenes, and as long as you’re happy with your life, then that should be good enough.

Oh, and should you start feeling the need to air your dirty laundry on Facebook, then it’s time for some cyber dry-cleaning . Please desist. Social media is no place for rants, passive-aggressive memes ripped from bad Tumblr accounts, or any of the intimacies of your romantic and social engagements. “Doing you” is great, but doing it on a public forum is not. Engage that filter, my friend.

You don’t have to be best friends with everyone.

Just as in the civilian world, there will be people that you like, and people that you don’t like. There’ll be people that you click with, and others that you don’t.

Your mama taught you it’s polite to be cordial, and so you should be. Just because you’re not close friends with every person on your street doesn’t mean you can’t be nice to them. “Drama” is a word that can just flutter out of every young person’s vocabulary right now; it’s so much easier to be pleasant, and gossip spreads like wildfire around military bases.

Oh, and there’s a reason why you typically stick a name tag on yourself when you go to organized social events; even seasoned military spouses forget names. You don’t have to have the memory of an elephant when you’re meeting dozens of new people on the daily. You’re not going to be socially penalized for forgetting the name of your spouse’s commanding officer’s wife’s best friend.

Don’t plan anything, ever.

Please, for the love of all good things, don’t make plans. Don’t assume you can take that vacation next year. Don’t assume you can go home for Christmas. In fact, don’t even assume your partner will be home from work for dinner. Seriously.

Or, make the plans, and then don’t be surprised when Uncle Sam says “nope!”

Most of all, don’t assume you know anything about the military’s plans for your partner: base, career, any of it. The cringe is so real.

Suck it up, buttercup.

Here’s the deal: As a military spouse, you will inevitably make certain sacrifices. Yep, I’m throwing it out there, the holy grail of milspouse cuss-words: “Sacrifices.”

There will be people who deny that living and working around the constraints of the military lifestyle doesn’t change a thing. There will be people who smugly proclaim, “you knew what you were getting into,” if you dare admit that you (temporarily) gave up your career goals to move across the country with your beloved.

Homegirl, say “nay” to the naysayers; it’s true, your life does change. You will move to places that put you completely out of your comfort zone. You will spend countless days missing the one person who makes this new place your home. Your family and friends will be hundreds (if not thousands) of miles away. You might apply for jobs that were never, ever in the golden ten-year-plan.

Just make sure that the difference between you and Moaning Myrtle two doors down is that you suck it up, embrace the change, and make the best of this life, despite the fact it doesn’t look a whole lot like the one you imagined for yourself. You’ve got this.

Don’t lose yourself.

Recently, I came across a list of “Random Tips” for ball etiquette, written for military spouses. The entire list was three pages long -- full of useful hints, yes, but largely interspersed with quips like, “Remember, the ball is not about you!” and “Don’t speak unless you’re formally introduced!”

While I appreciate the sentiment, I think this is incredibly telling about the traditional role of a military spouse: We’re expected to pipe down and dress the part and smile sweetly, all the time. This isn’t a realistic goal for anyone; there’s a time and a place to kick your manners into top gear, but this doesn’t mean compromising your personality, or your personal ambitions. (That's why we LOVE the Military Spouse of the Year Program, because we get a voice!! Nominations are open right now > Check it out here )

I won’t lie: I’m still young. Like most of my peers, I still like fizzy cocktails on the weekends, short shorts, and singing to bad pop music at the top of my lungs. At first, landing in a culture of book clubs and bunco seemed so much more like my Grandma’s cup of tea than my own.

While I ended up loving it, I made a huge effort to stay true to myself in the process. I’m friends with my husband’s coworkers and their wives. I work. I stand up for myself. I make bad jokes. I cuss. I’m exactly who I always was. And I’m infinitely happier because of it.