Want to know one of the things I love most about the military spouse community?

Hands down, it’s the supportive nature.

You find yourself asking…

“Where do I…?”

“When do I…?”

“How do I…?”

And your spouse community is there with loads of information and bountiful answers. Have an urgent need when your service member is deployed and something crazy unexpected comes up? Expect open arms and helping hands. Community is a beautiful thing indeed.

For all the caring, support, and encouragement that abounds in our wonderful community, however, there is one observable phenomenon that has really caught my attention this month:

Comparison missing.

What is comparison missing? It’s hard to properly define, but here’s what it may essentially look like:

• A spouse whose active-duty servicemember is deployed for 12 months becomes annoyed by the comments of a spouse whose servicemember is deployed for only 9 months.
• A spouse whose active-duty servicemember is deployed for 9 months becomes annoyed by the comments of a spouse whose servicemember is deployed for only 6 months.
• A spouse whose active-duty servicemember is deployed for 6 months becomes annoyed by the comments of a spouse whose servicemember is away for NTC (or other training).
• No active-duty spouse wants to hear about the challenges that are lamented by Guard/Reserve spouses.
• And virtually everyone is annoyed by civilian comments about missing a significant other who has been away for 24 hours on 3-day business trip! 

Right? Right?!

Anybody nodding in agreement right now?

Admittedly, I confess to having struggled with this myself, so anything I write from this point forward will be with the understanding that, if I come across in any way as pointing a finger, there are at least three of my own fingers pointing right back at me. Deal?

I stumbled upon the most amazing graphic the other day. I hope that when you read it, you’ll appreciate its meaning in the same way I did:

The truth is that “missing” is a universal emotion, and when we start defining it in a broader manner, we begin to understand that we—particularly as military spouses of deployed service members—do not  automatically get to “win the gold” in the Olympic sport of Missing.

• The first thing that came to mind are the Gold Star family members. How do they feel when I share about missing my husband whom, to the best of my knowledge at this writing, should be on track to come home to me next year. Some of my close family members are widows and widowers (not through acts of war); how completely silly I must seem when I post on social media about missing my husband after more than 3 months of separation.
• And then there are my single not-by-choice friends. Just the other day, a tender friend of mine posted on social media about missing someone she’s not yet met and wondering how long until she finally gets to meet her husband-to-be. Is my “missing” greater than hers?
• And what about our TTC (trying to conceive) friends? Certainly they are intimately acquainted with the intense grief that comes along with longing and missing someone.

What are some ways we can achieve more compassion in our thoughts and interactions with others?

First, we can eliminate some of the scathing (this is no exaggeration!) comments on social media.

Next, we can be sensitive to what we say or share with others. No one is telling you to not be authentic in what you share. Food for thought: I may regret some of my “authentic” moments, but I have never once regretted a moment when I’ve been considerate of someone else’s thoughts/feelings. Interestingly, the spouses I’ve admired the most during a deployment are the ones who have barely said anything at all publicly about their loved one being half a world away. There’s something stunningly beautiful and unexpected about the quiet bearing of a great burden so sacred that it’s only ever spoken about inside of a tight-knit inner circle.

Any other thoughts you’d like to add? I’m curious to know how others are processing/have processed Comparison Missing.

Here’s to missing well, my friends!