An Offer I Couldn’t Refuse

Like many of you, I had many dreams as a child, this idea of how I thought life would unravel. I was waylaid by love during my sophomore year of college, and it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

I always wanted to be a writer. I loved it. I used to spend hours on my parents’ old Compaq computer, writing page after page of silly stories, ranging from magical paints and talking dragons, to fun poems about a wizard. I’d print them out and pass them off to my mother, who was my own personal editor. She’d mark my mistakes and I’d eagerly return to the keyboard and correct them, later proudly presenting her with my finished copy.

It was mostly a hobby back then, and I never knew what I’d do with it in the future. I had numerous teachers who helped groom my skills, and I eventually decided that journalism would be my future. I graduated with an English degree focusing in journalism in 2010.

I set off for a big city, taking on a job that helped me quickly rise along with other talented writers. After distinguishing myself amongst my colleagues, I met the love of my life, took some time to have children, and went right back into the workforce, barely missing a beat.

Well, that last paragraph isn’t true. At all.

You see, those were my goals. I had every intention of using my skills in aggressive reporting with aims of being an editor of a major newspaper or magazine. I thought I’d establish myself in my career before ever settling down. But fate had other plans during my sophomore year of college.

I met my future husband in a college math class. On the first day, I sat in my seat dreading the semester. Math is my weakest subject, and I knew it would be a struggle. I spent 10 minutes before class watching everyone sidle into the classroom. Shortly before class started, I watched a young man enter the room with a laptop bag slung across his broad shoulders. He had an easy smile and his hair was cut in a military style, a major giveaway of his time in the Army Reserve. I immediately thought, “I’d love to get to know that guy.”

Little did I know, I would.

As I predicted, I struggled in the early weeks of the class and anxiously awaited the first exam. He overheard me saying this to a friend and he offered to help (I aced the next exam). The rest, as they say, is history. Over the next few months, I spent more and more time at his apartment, watching movies or talking until late in the night, knowing I would only have a few hours of sleep before waking for work at 5 a.m.

After spending a summer separated while he completed his annual training with his Army Reserve unit, then the Leadership Development Assessment Course at Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Washington, my future husband arrived home and proposed (nine months after we first met). He asked, “Do you see marrying me as limiting you in any way?” I immediately said no. We were married six months later in March 2009.

Our first year of marriage was spent separated while I finished my final year of college in the same town where I grew up, but my husband was off for an entire year of training at various installations around the country. Three days after I graduated from college, I drove to my first new home—Fort Polk, Louisiana. Five months later, in October 2010, my husband left for a year-long deployment to Afghanistan.

Remember the dreams of being a journalist? Well, when he left, I was unemployed, sitting on student loan debt that hadn’t yet entered repayment, and wondering what I was going to do. I was alone in a new town where I barely knew anyone. A job with the installation newspaper opened up, and I went for it.

And that’s where my writing career began.

I’ve continued as a writer since then, working as a reporter for The Fort Polk Guardian, a content producer for MilitaryOneClick (now known as MilSpouseFest), and even sending out pieces to other support sites like The Homefront United Network. Despite living in numerous places, I’ve been fortunate to continue my work.

My husband’s military career has taken us to Fort Polk, Louisiana; Fort Huachuca, Arizona; Fort Meade, Maryland; Hohenfels, Germany; and, now, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. During this journey, I’ve met so many amazing spouses, made lifelong friends, and traveled across the United States and Europe. Unlike many civilian families (meaning no military affiliation), we’ve also amassed binders full of letters we’ve sent to one another over the years during our separations.

While our family began with just us two, we’ve blossomed to a family of five along with a very spoiled little Dachshund. Like many military families, our children have each been born in a different state or country.

Our smart and vivacious oldest daughter was born in Arizona.

Our sweet and snuggly middle child and second daughter was born in Maryland.

Our growing-like-a-weed youngest child and first son was born in Germany.

I continue my writing while working from home and tending to my kids. Most often, you’ll find me spending quiet mornings indulging in a book, playing around outside or in the house with my children, drinking a yummy German wine or German beer in the evening while chatting with my husband, attempting to master some sort of meal my children will (mostly) eat (that isn’t chicken nuggets, burgers, or French fries), or hunching over my computer while completing a personal blog post or chipping away at a novel.

Those goals I had as a young college student? I still have them, but they’ve also evolved as I’ve grown and changed.

I’ve spent the last eight years writing for and about the military and military life. It has a fulfillment I never could have predicted. I’ve connected with spouses and service members, shared their stories, and (hopefully) written something that helped guide them through a confusing part of military life or helped them through a difficult time.

I’m looking forward to sharing my stories with Army Wife Network and all of you. I hope you enjoy the journey.