The military has been a huge part of my life for seven years. I dated a couple military guys before that, but I was flingin’ it on vacation. I don’t know if I love to hate them or hate to love them. Either way, the two men in my life are an active Marine and a medically retired Marine. So my life revolves around base, VA, and acronyms. It’s a part of their lives, so it’s a part of my life.
People think I have a thing for military dudes, particularly Marines. Actually, I have actively avoided military guys, but the best men in my life are serving or have served. When Alex and I met, he said he wanted to serve after graduating college. I said, “Cool, then we’ll be friends when that happens. I’m not doing a military relationship.” Well, that worked out well… Fast forward seven years to my second big relationship. The only reason I started dating Dylan was because he was out of the military.
It’s a hard life. There are perks, but it’s not a Nicholas Sparks novel. The only reason the military is a part of my life: love. There is absolutely nothing else that could convince me to be in a military relationship.
- Balls!!! No, I don’t mean testicles. The Marine Corps Birthday Ball is my favorite thing about the military. No exaggeration. Dressing up in a floor length dress, doing my hair and makeup, seeing my dude decked out in his Blues. Also dancing and cake. It’s all the good stuff of a wedding without having to sit through the ceremony! I’ve been to three: 2014, 2015, 2017. The 2018 ball was cancelled for Alex’s unit due to his deployment schedule. Bummer.
- Bootcamp. It SUCKS. Yeah it sucks for them, but they signed up for it. I just accidentally loved the wrong (right?) (inconvenient!) dude. Three months of no contact. Except letters. When you’ve spent three years being in a live-in, joint bank account, own cars, have bills kind of relationship, those three months are killer. Going from sleeping next to him every night to not having my support system anymore was ridiculously hard. I wrote tons and tons and tons of letters, but it’s not the same. Everything was on me. Letters couldn’t solve problems, pay bills, talk to his parents, buy plane tickets, make me tea when I’m sick, call the insurance after a car accident, or hold me when it was all too much. All of it alone, and it was rough. I’d never had to do it all alone; he had always been there to help. I made my best friend sleep in bed with me a lot during those three months because the bed was empty. Or I slept on the couch, so I didn’t have to be in our bed alone. It was also right in the middle of my senior year in college and over all my favorite holidays. Bootcamp sucketh.
- Family Day. Bootcamp sucks, but Family Day is the day before they graduate when you get to see them for the first time. There is so much emotion. It felt like everyone was vibrating with excitement. Stretching to see their Marine. Whispering, giggling, jumping, running. There was an intensity to those moments I’ve never felt before or after. The day was a little different for us because Alex and I were in a completely different phase of our lives than almost all of the other Marines. His peers were mostly eighteen and just out of high school. The parents were over the moon to see their newly minted Marines because they had just spent eighteen years living with them 24/7. The girlfriends were equally excited, but it was strange because they were so young. Many were still in high school. Not to diminish an eighteen year old love story, but it’s not the same as living with and depending on someone for years. We’d been in a relationship for just about as long as they’d been in high school. Alex and I were old in comparison. We had years on them as individuals and as a couple, and we had life experiences they didn’t have yet. Alex’s parents were excited to see him, but they were used to going months without being around him, at that point. I had to wait longer than others to see him because I was on my very painful period. I’d been locked in the bathroom with my best friend throwing up for three hours by the time he was released. When I saw him, it was more than emotional for me because I was suddenly not alone anymore. Everything I had been dealing with loosened, and I couldn’t stop crying. Not to mention, an exorbitant amount of menstrual pain didn’t help the situation.
- Uniforms “Women love a man in uniform.” I think that saying is true. The Marine uniform can turn an eh looking dude into a Heeeyyyy looking dude. Now if the guy is already attractive, hello! I’m in the minority, I love the Alphas. They’re old timey and a panty dropper for me. Just kidding, I’m totes a virgin, y’all…
- The VA I haven’t had a good experience with the VA yet. Veterans Affairs helps vets with life. It is particularly important to disabled and retired vets. Considering I live with and date a medically retired Marine, I’ve spent a good amount of time dealing with their fuck ups, filing paper work, and sitting in the VA hospital. I’m super opinionated about the VA. Dylan broke his back on the job as a Marine. His career was cut short; he wanted to be a lifer. His life was changed for the worse when he was 21. He’s had five back surgeries, almost died, lives with chronic pain, has a TBI, and a ton of other stuff. He’s kind of a mess; thank you USMC. The VA has tried fuck him and take away his benefits a few times. He’s gone months without getting paid because fuck if I know. At one point, we couldn’t buy groceries because all my money and our savings had gone to paying rent and bills because the VA didn’t pay him for five months. When someone volunteers their body, their mind, and their life for this country, the least we can do is take care of them when shit hits the fan. If you feel differently, fuck you.
- Humor There’s a certain kind of humor almost all military guys have in common. It’s dark and sexually fluid and biting and observational and crude and raunchy and pretty much completely rude. It’s also spot on with my sense of humor, so I love hanging out around military guys. Alex’s good friend in the military calls me Shovel Face, which is my fault because I introduced myself as Shovel Face. Take that as you will. I should have known better.
- Military Life This is something I understand but don’t always (ever) appreciate. It’s not a normal job. It’s not a 9 to 5. It’s a life. It is all consuming. It’s not just the service member, their dependents are affected too. They dictate everything, which is good and bad. There’s a dress code and code of conduct and rules and regulations and IDs and so much. Even as a MilSO, there are still rules I have to follow and things I can and cannot wear on base. I get it. I’ll follow the rules. I just don’t like being told what to do or what I can’t wear. Vacations or visits in the military can be hard to plan and execute because orders might not come through, things might change, any number of things can happen. It’s a little volatile. You never know for sure until it’s done. I went to visit Alex for a long weekend. We spent 36 hours together, and he was called on a DET. So I spent the other 48 hours sitting on the beach in November and enjoying the hotel room. It was a huge let down.
- Marine Bases Merriam-Webster dictionary definition 1a: of or relating to the sea. Water. Ocean. My favorite. Marine bases are by the water, usually. 29 Palms, I’m looking at you. Alex was stationed at MCAS New River his entire enlistment. He was on the water. Beaches galore. Thank you, find me in a swimsuit.
- Acronyms Hello acronyms. They’re everywhere. There’s an acronym for everything. I’m a MilSO, which stands for Military Significant Other. I understand them far better than civilians and even some military wives, but there are some that fly right over my head. It’s part of the life. I always feel a little cool using them, which is stupid.
- Letters I am a letter writer. I have been writing Alex letters through bootcamp, MOS school, deployments, and just because. I understand how much those letters mean, especially during bootcamp and deployments. When I was delayed at the Charlotte Airport, I met Chad. He’s a nice kid going into his junior year at Mizzou. We chatted VERY briefly. Long enough to find out he was on his way to bootcamp. I gave him the same advice I’ve given other boots, “It’s a game you can’t win. Just think of it as a game.” He did not look consoled, so I continued, “I know it sounds awful, but just knowing that no matter what you do you’re wrong will make it a LOT easier. When you feel like you’re failing, you’re doing it just right!” As I was about to board, I ran back and asked if he had people writing him letters. He said, “Yes. Two maybe three.” I asked if he wanted another person to write to him. He said sure, so I gave him my phone number in case he could get me his address. He did! So now, I’m writing him letters.
- Deployments Honestly this is kind of better than bootcamp but also infinitely worse. Bootcamp sucks because you can’t communicate with them, but it’s only three months. Also, death and maiming isn’t on the table. Alex and I have been through three. The first was to Japan in 2015. In 2016, he was back in Japan and did a short MEU visiting The Philippines, Hong Kong, and other places; I don’t remember. He came home from his last deployment in July, which was a MEU in the Mediterranean and elsewhere. His deployments were mostly safe, but they’re still nerve wracking. Deployments are terrifying for those of us at home. I worried constantly. (Read a post about that here.) The internet is a wonderful thing, but you still can’t see or be with them. Also the time difference can be drastic. At one point, I would set my alarm for 4:15 in the morning just to hear his voice for ten minutes. Although, on MEUs, there’s this thing called River City. River City strikes suddenly without warning. There is no way to confirm it until it’s over. It’s where communication is cut completely. Nothing in and out of the ship except letters, which can take months to get there. (I sent a letter in February, he got it in May. Helpful.) You’ll go from exchanging emails every day or even every few hours, to nothing. Did he die? Does he hate me suddenly? Did I say something? Has he decided to dive into his up-until-right-this-moment latent homosexuality? Have I gotten too old for him? He’s definitely dead. Then, three weeks and five days later, he picks up the email chain right where it left off. No news is good news, people. Since it was my third deployment and ninth year with him, I wasn’t terribly worried when River City struck. Although, I’m nearing thirty, so it’s probably time to get a newer edition. Deployments are a hate-hate relationship.
bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna