A Veteran's Secret

It was a no-brainer for me to join the Air Force when I heard the call to serve.

Maybe it was the 12 years of Catholic school, but it felt good to put on a uniform. The new one “fit” me and my view of the world.

But when the time came to take it off? Oof. That’s another matter completely.

I made the decision to separate after almost 10 years in the Air Force. I was comfortable with that choice; I wanted to be with my growing family. Being married to a Marine didn’t make it easy to be stationed together, both of us wanting upward career tracks.

So when the time was right, I made the move and separated from the Air Force.

But when I took that uniform off, my identity vaporized. I was no longer Captain G or Agent Green. I realized my identity had been wrapped up inside my service, my title, my mission. I felt called upon. Needed. Even special.

I went about exploring civilian jobs, but I started experiencing this nagging feeling in my chest. I tried ignoring it but it would not ignore me. It snuck into my thoughts. Every so often, it would show up as an emotional outburst. As much as I tried to suppress it, the nagging feeling would just find its way back.

I was just Deb.

And who was Deb? Deb wasn’t special. Deb wasn’t part of an organization that everyone recognized and saw as value-added. 

Just Deb.

The first years were hard. I found jobs, but I felt like an octagon in a world of circles and squares. Those jobs “fit” for a time, but not for long.

Looking back, it was my grief period. I had gone through a loss and needed to process it, not push it into the corner.

I gradually worked through that grief and started to focus my thinking on "who is Deb?" and not who Deb wasn’t. It didn’t happen overnight. But piece by piece, I created my story.

Deb is a woman who’d dealt with more major world crises up close during the first 10 years of her career than most will face in a lifetime.

Deb is a problem-solver who mobilizes others to help with the solutions -- not by authority -- but through influence and building a spirit of teamwork.

Deb is someone who runs towards the fan—not away from it—especially when the you-know-what is about to hit the blades.

Deb counsels senior leadership during good times and bad. 

It took some time, but I rebuilt the way I saw myself. I wish I could tell you it arrived when I received my DD-214, but it didn’t. And I am not alone in that experience. 

So for this Veteran’s Day, I humbly ask you: when you meet a vet say more than, “Thank you for your service.” We appreciate the phrase. But it’s even more meaningful to say something like:  “I see you – all of you - and appreciate the whole of you beyond your time in uniform.”

The end of our service is often the start of finding a new identity. The transition doesn’t come easy, and doesn’t come quickly. It can take months and even years.

So this Veteran’s Day, shine a light not just on the veteran’s service, but also on the journey they took to transition to civilian life.