There’s a trend going around social media where you compare yourself now to where you were a decade ago. Despite having a blog, I put very little of myself and my family on social media these days. But I found the idea intriguing.
In 2016, ten whole years ago, I was already more than 10 years out of high school. I had been dating my now husband for about 8-ish months. We would marry in the spring.
It would take me 2 months after our wedding to finish my job, pack up my apartment, and move my life 2 states away, where he was stationed. Two months and many trips back and forth with my trusty Subaru, filled to the brim with things and stuff.
After I moved, I would need to learn my way around a new town. Something I’d never had to do before. I would need to make friends. Also, something I’d never had to do before (in its entirety, anyway. Growing up and starting my adult life in my hometown meant I always had friends nearby to fall back on.)
In the fall, I would find a job with a non-profit that I had high hopes for. There would be a flood that completely washed away and reoriented any and all job descriptions or expectations I had for that position. I worked there for a year, and it was the hardest professional year of my life.
And, as if 2016 wasn’t challenging enough, at the beginning of 2017, my husband would deploy.
2016 – The Year of Bravery
I don’t think I really give myself enough credit for how brave I was. At almost 30, I uprooted my life and left the only town I’d ever lived in.
Not only did I leave town, but I also entered into a part of society I’d never interacted with before. Being a part of the military community is so unique, and I didn’t have anyone close to me with a similar experience.
In that first year, my husband and I spent more time apart than we did together. While he was away, I practiced being brave. I hung out with groups of people I didn’t know. Once, I reached out to friends of friends for advice on the area. I joined a trivia team. Everywhere I could, I looked for community.
In 2016, I was brave in everything I did, even the mundane things like grocery shopping. Before I moved, I had people at my regular grocery store who knew me. Here, I couldn’t even find the same chain of stores, much less anything like the same people. (This may seem ridiculous to you – and to me, now – but I promise you tears were shed over this fact).
This year, I practiced saying yes when I’d rather say no. Mostly in regard to people. I’m an introvert; I like having time to prepare. But this year, I said yes whenever an invitation arose. Sometimes it was small, like a friend moving a coffee date up by a few hours. Other times it was big, like when I drove 3 service members, whom I barely knew, an hour away to an airport.
And Also Loneliness
Change is not without challenges. Despite a desperate search for community, I was so incredibly lonely.
When I left my job and moved, I didn’t have another one lined up. To go from working full-time and being financially independent, to a full-time stay at home, who was financially dependent, was a big shock.
With nothing to fill my days, I’d invent to-do lists. I worked remotely for the job I’d left for a while, making up deadlines on projects that were frivolous at best.
When he was home, my husband already had an established routine and friends. Melding our lives together wasn’t easy.
I made a few friends, but I was surprised at how hard it was. Honestly, I thought I’d be better at it.
In the past, I made new friends, but I had the safety net of knowing that I still had other older friends I could relate to and hang with if new friendships didn’t stick. Those friendship-making muscles, not truly stretched since college, fatigued easily.
I felt adrift and without direction in the second half of the year. Eventually, I found a job and made a few friends. But I had always been driven by order, predictability, and control. Now, I had none of that.
Unpacking Expectations in 2016
2016 also brought into stark reality where my actual life didn’t match the inner life I’d constructed. In some cases, I didn’t even know I had these expectations.
The marriage I was starting didn’t look like any of the models I’d been shown. I didn’t know anyone else who had married and uprooted one right after the other. Many of my friends, and even my parents, had never spent significant time away from their spouses. I was in uncharted waters.
Finding my way in the military community was overwhelming and often left me adrift. You always hear people say, “You knew what you were signing up for.” But you don’t. Not really.
In 2016, I was optimistic and full of promise, ready to meet the challenges of military wife life, even though I had no idea what that kind of life looked like. In reality, my life had never been so fraught with change, uncertainty, and unpredictability.
From acronyms to ever-changing schedules, it’s a hard world to get used to. Even moving around the base felt scary. All the buildings looked the same – institutional – but in a scary, you’re-not-welcome-here kind of way. Seeing people in uniform shopping for groceries was unnerving. It didn’t make me feel safe; it made me feel controlled and on edge.
Finding a job was harder than I expected. 2016 was the first time in my adult life that I didn’t work. I had never imagined a stay-at-home lifestyle being available to me. This was also the year I let go of the idea of ever really having a career I could retire from.
An Exercise in Trust
The whole of 2016 was an exercise in trust. Trust in myself, in God, in the small community I was building.
I remember that part of the pre-deployment goings on was planning my husband’s funeral. If he were killed in action, the military wanted, in writing, all kinds of information. Things like where to bury him and what music to play. We had been married for less than six months and were having conversations I was not prepared for.
One of the more jarring was actually a question for me. I had to choose someone who would accompany the military and knock on my door, telling me my husband had been killed or injured. I barely knew anyone, and many of those I would have chosen would be on this mission, too. Ultimately, I asked a woman whom I had known for mere weeks. To my relief, she said yes. (And an even bigger relief, she never came to my door for that reason).
In the first six months of our marriage, my husband was away a lot. We spent barely a month together. This idea of trust also extended into my marriage. While we’d known each other for a year, we had never lived in the same town (and one could argue we still didn’t). I had to trust that when we were finally together, we would be compatible.
But this exercise in trust wasn’t always so dramatic and big. It was small things, too. I had never moved before, and I was trusting that, eventually, I’d be able to find my way around town without a GPS. I trusted that I would find a grocery store I liked, a coffee shop to frequent, and friends to hang out with.
Change Won’t Always Be Challenging
It was far from easy, but leaving our comfort zone is often necessary. It forces us to confront things about ourselves we might not any other way. And we learn to trust God and ourselves.
In 2016, I was comfortable. I knew logically that marriage would probably shake things up a bit. But emotionally, I did not know. I was not prepared.
Ten years ago was one of the biggest turning points in my life. It was the time I really got to start living some of my dreams – getting married, moving out of my hometown, traveling the world. But it also uncovered a lot of things I needed to work on (and am still working on), namely anxiety.
It’s hard to believe a whole decade has passed. How much has changed and how much remains the same. How much our family has grown, seen, and done in ten years. I can look back and see God was faithful through it all. Even when it was the worst it’s ever been, and I wasn’t sure I was going to make it through to the other side.
The things I learned about myself that year shaped how I move through the world today.
It was probably the most challenging time in my life, but, as we all do, I adjusted, grew, changed, and learned. Most of the time, we don’t stay stuck in the challenges that come with change. It’s hard to recognize in the moment, but I’m glad for 2016 and all that it taught me.
And, maybe most importantly, looking back – I’m really proud of her.
