Breaking Molds

I have a secret which is the worst-kept secret in the world.

Yet when my secret inevitably gets out, the usual response is, “I had no idea!”

I’m speaking of the “secret” of my military service.

It’s not something that I talk about a lot in real life, and I don’t look like a typical veteran.

I’m not a PT stud (never was, really). As a matter of fact, I’m a trifle overweight. I don’t own a unit T-shirt or have a hat proclaiming “Veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom.”

I look like a typical military spouse.

But there’s really no such thing as a “typical military spouse.” We don’t just pop out of a mold in CIF with an FRG manual in one hand and a cookie sheet in the other.

We are Yankees, Southerners, Heartlanders, and from many countries around the world.

We are left-wing, right-wing, independent, and non-political.

We are those who run marathons and those who stand on the sidelines and cheer them on.

We are writers, musicians, roller derby girls, lawyers, housewives, students, and waitresses.

We go to FRG meetings, volunteer, and we support in other ways.

We may use cookie cutters, but we are anything but cookie cutter.

I’m guilty of trying to place myself into the mold of “typical veteran.”

Please don’t try to put yourself into the mold of “typical military spouse,” my friends.