Confessions from a Military Wife


I just need to write about some things that are weighing heavy on my heart tonight.

Sometimes I think we take advantage of our military spouses.

I say this as a veteran and a spouse.

I say this as someone who respects and admires the work that my husband does.

I say this as someone who stood side by side with our country’s defenders.

We, as military spouses, do so much to make sure our lives and the lives of our spouses are as steady as possible:

We are trusted.

We are reliable.

We are forgotten.

As a disclaimer, I want to say that I completely value and respect our military, but I just don’t want to talk about them right now. I want to talk about the backbone of our nations protectors. The ones on the home front. The ones that give up the possibility of a steady life and career. They face the possibility of not being able to have a career, unable to have support, unable to see their spouses regularly, and expected to handle ALL THE THINGS and then have a smile on their face and NOT be worn down by the time their spouse gets back. Dealing with the kids, school, bills, schedules and routines and, if you’re lucky, a career. As if that wasn’t enough, we must move every few years and say goodbye to our friends and support that we have found within those friends. 

All without allowing anything to slip and look like you’re leading a semi normal life.

Our kids will cry when daddy is gone and you have to come up with some kind of explanation as to why they can’t see daddy yet. We will have to deal with those emotions with ALOT of patience too.

Our children must go through their life constantly saying goodbye. Our children don’t get to build in person bonds with family. Luckily they are resilient, but the confusion of why we can’t go to grandma’s house hurts my heart. I hate that I can’t give them the small town life/safety net that I got growing up.

There are so many many many great things that come with military life. But that is for another day and another time.

For now I am tired.

My eyes hurt from crying.

I need a drink and sleep.

Tomorrow will come, and it may be better, but at the moment I am just feeling overwhelmed with feelings of sadness.