Can You Learn to be Too Independent?
Yesterday, I had my wisdom teeth out. I woke up and took myself to the appointment. Then I brought myself home, stopping by Burger King for a milkshake and the video store for a chick flick on the way. I spent the day on the couch, doling out my own vicodin and gatorade. But I didn’t feel lonely – I felt strong, independent, and capable. And even with my eyes half-swollen shut; I could see that these feelings were a direct result of the deployment.
My husband returned from Afghanistan three months ago. As an Army National Guard wife in the middle of a deployment, I spent a year learning that being alone was valiant; doing things for yourself meant you were a survivor; needing no one demonstrated your service to our country. And it hasn’t worn off yet. I developed a new sense of self during that deployment year – a sense that I really was capable of anything. I could take care of our 15 acre farm, our 100 year old farmhouse, our 6 dogs – and I could do it all without knowing on a daily basis where Paul was or when I would hear from him.
Those days I spent staring out the kitchen window, wondering if the sedan would pull up carrying the soldiers that would tell me my husband wasn’t coming home – those were battles just as hard-fought at home as the ones Paul waged in the deserts of Afghanistan. National Guard troops are spread out – there are no spouse clubs or weekly coffee dates, no bases with row houses filled with neighbors in the same unit. In the National Guard, there is you, and your soldier, and a world full of civilians who sometimes don’t understand. During a deployment, it’s just you and the civilians. The sense of purpose I felt last year at being part of the mission, supporting a soldier that I loved while he carried out work I believed in, isn’t easy to just put on a shelf now that he’s home… to be taken down and dusted off the next time orders come. It’s not something I can let go of that easily.
But when I woke up this morning and my mouth hurt and there was no one to complain too, I wondered if it’s possible to be too independent. Is it dangerous not to trust anyone but yourself? Even soldiers on the battlefield rely on each other to keep them safe. Still now, in the uncomfortable transitional period of post-deployment, Paul is more at ease sharing his feelings with his buddies from the front lines than with me. But last year, I fought most of my toughest battles alone. And when you become the person who always has it all together; when you don’t need to lean on anyone, and would rather die than ask for help… well, sooner or later, you will be staring at the paperwork in your dentist’s office and not know whose number to put down in the ‘call in case of an emergency’ slot.
Perhaps my civilian girlfriends will read this and say “why didn’t you call us?!” And the answer is simple: because I didn’t need to. But the truth is I would have liked the company. Getting loopy on vicodin is only really fun if you have a buddy there to remember all the crazy things you say, and re-tell them over drinks at next week’s girls’ night.
Military wives are the strongest, most capable, resilient women I know. We have to be. But let us not forget that whether the battlefield is the homefront, the doctor’s office, your workplace or anywhere else you wage war on a daily basis… deep down, it’s OK to still be the girl who needs someone there – if only to grab a fresh bag of frozen peas out of the freezer, because she knows how important it is to get the swelling down before it ruins your plans for the weekend.
Read more from Katie Dyer at Heroes At Home
