Underneath My Armor, Part 4: I Am Still Me

How do you respond to people who say that you are owned by the military?

Well… firstly I say… it's true, in a way.

What I say, do, when I say it, how I say it, how I look when I say it, it's not governed by the Army, but I am held to a higher standard now that I am Mrs. ArmyWife, than when I was SingleGirl. I represent not only myself, but my husband, every time I set foot outside the door, and I know that.

I am weighed, measured, and judged, just as much as if I wore the uniform, except that I don't. It is partly my own set of judgements, most of us all know that wife, who wears short shorts or miniskirts to a meeting, who calls command when something does not go her way, who will not stand on her own two feet, who demands something at every opportunity.

I remember meeting that wife, the one we all know, the one I do not want to be, at one of the first functions I went to as the Mrs, and it was a shocking moment, that left me stuttering for something to say. And I left that afternoon get-together, determined to; no matter who I might offend, no matter who might think I was putting on airs, who might think I am acting like I was better than them, not be that wife. That I would be an asset to my husband, that I would be the wife he is proud of, the wife he knows can keep herself and our family together, no matter what. It was a long journey, from that afternoon, when I left shell-shocked by what I had seen, to the woman I am now.

The Army does not hand out books on how to behave to the wives, no one has pulled me to one side and given me a list of does and don'ts, rather, watching the women around me, I have figured out who I want to be, and more importantly, who I do not want to be. And this isn't a bad thing.

I have come from the girl who lived like a gypsy, always quick to wander on the wind, who wore jeans and flip flops; to the woman who can keep her house together, who might still wear jeans and flip flops, but knows when to change out of them. The higher standards I hold myself to, and am held to, have forced me to step into my adulthood at the same time I earned my independence.

I am not owned by the Army. Just like deployment made me stronger, the standards and expectations of life as an Army wife, have not only made me stronger, they've grown me, matured me. Held up against the expectations of what I should be, I made my own identity as an Army wife. And weirdly, despite the pressure of it all, I am finally content with the person I see in the mirror every morning.

~Jennifer