The Truth About This Army Wife...

So I have been watching the TV show "Army Wives", and while it is a good show, and gives a fairly reasonable accounting of what wives of military members go through, it is still lacking...something.

Now all of this is just from my perspective, but here is my view on what a soldier's wife is.

We are, first and foremost, women. Second, we are wives...then it all comes down to being lovers, moms, co-workers, daughters, friends, sisters, and what ever else we are in our daily lives. I don't want the recognition of being an "army wife" and having to maintain the facade or persona of that "strong" person I am supposed to be. I am just ME. I just want to be who I am, and not be labelled as something that has a whole lot of definitions tied to it. What I am not, is some paragon of virtue.

I am not Joan of Arc, I am not a saint. I don't carry a sword and lead other's to battle under some banner of righteousness and honour. Although, I can throw a mean right hook to protect those I love. Being an army wife doesn't have anything to do with who I am...this is just who I am. I have a problem with injustice, and I get stupid angry when others accuse me of something that I didn't do. But, I am not a "right-fighter", not by any stretch of the imagination.

I am not Wonder Woman...well except for that time when I was 8, at Halloween. In my everyday life, I am not some version of a super girl accomplishing great feats of strength. I like putting the clothes in the washer, but I hate folding them and putting them away. I like to cook, but I hate cleaning the kitchen. I do, strangely enough, like cleaning the bathroom. Vacuuming and washing the floors kills my back. I am not some kind of hero.

What I am is, well, normal...whatever that means.

I love my husband, but not because he is a soldier. Yah, he looks good in a uniform (what man doesn't??), but what he wears isn't who he is. And what he wears, most certainly doesn't make me who I am. There are days, however, when my husband, and his job, drives me freaking batshit crazy. I hate that I can't really count on him to be there when I need him - at any time. I hate that he and I haven't celebrated my birthday on the day. I hate that he can't/won't talk to me about work. I hate that plans I make usually end up being changed because his schedule has changed once again. And then when he goes away, I sometimes look forward to it. Finally, I get a chance to be just ME. No more wife, no more army wife...just ME. No accounting to anyone else for my time, being able to make whatever plans I want and not have to worry about whether or not they will change. And I hate that I feel that way. But this is normal right? The chance to enjoy a break from all that goes along with being a wife, and especially an army wife.

Who I am is a conglomerate of experiences and environmental influences that has shaped me into someone who has her own thoughts, her own beliefs, and her own idiosyncrasies. I make mistakes, and most of the time I take responsibility for them. Sometimes, I will justify them. Who I am is a hot, sexy mess of a woman who has figured out a lot of shit about herself, and a bit about other people. I can bend, but I will not break. Life can try to take me down but it will not succeed. I can love, I can cry, I can have my heart broken and I will survive it all. But this has nothing to do with me being an army wife. I am a wife...but more importantly, I am just ME. Take me or leave me - but this is what you get. You get to see just about every part of me there is, if you are interested in seeing it. And if you are, just ask, and I will tell you. I will tell you about who I am, and how I got here. But what I will not tell you about, is how I am an Army Wife.