By Leigh DeBord
When we decide to leave the military or we finally reach retirement, we are at a crossroads. There is no turning back and we have to choose a path forward.
Before we embark on our journey without our combat boots, we need to determine a few things. What do we love? What are we good at? What does the world need? What can we get paid for? The intersection of our passion, mission, profession, and vocation is where we find our purpose.
For so much of our lives, our path was chosen for us. Military service academies, ROTC, OCS, and the different branches of service outlined our career paths for us. We knew the expectations, promotion requirements, and service requirements. It was linear and easy to follow.
In our military units, we had explicitly defined missions, goals, and end states. We never really had to choose and rarely worried about what came next for us. Until now.
Now we find ourselves entering uncharted territory. As we make the transition from the military, regardless of time in service, we are now in control and ultimately responsible for what comes next in our lives. There is no outline given to us for this next phase of life. No one provides us with our end state and gives us a glide path for how to get there.
Our reality during this time of transition is a fear of the unknown, stress, and anxiety. We are not just going through a career change — our lives are radically changing. The comfort zone we lived in for so long does not exist anymore. We are forced to rediscover ourselves and who we are without our uniform.
Change is occurring in every aspect of our lives at a rapid pace during the transition process. It is not normal for people to go through so many monumental changes all at once. It is overwhelming and difficult to manage. It affects our entire being–spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and physically.
It is so tempting to seek counsel from headhunters, recruiters, family, friends, mentors, and colleagues who have made the transition before us. We are searching so deeply for someone who can tell us what we ought to do next and point to our path forward. The problem is, no one can do that for us. We are the only people who can answer the existential question, “Who am I and what should I do next?”
The uncertainty we feel during our transition process expands beyond the search for a new source of income. How do we deal with this level of uncertainty? First, we need to acknowledge that change is hard and brings a significant amount of stress. Second, we need to give ourselves the grace to grieve. Feeling loss and sadness about the end of our military careers is normal and we should not fight those feelings. We are losing something that for many of us was an integral part of our lives and shaped who we are today. However, during this period of grief, we must also have hope.
We have this beautiful opportunity of a blank canvas before us and we can choose to paint it any way we would like. We can arrange our priorities however we see fit. We can take the things we enjoyed about the military and carry them forward into our civilian life. We can use these unique and valuable skills to teach and mentor others. We can now be an agent of change and positively impact the world around us. We must recognize that even though we may feel like we have lost a sense of purpose and value, or a part of our identity — we have not. We can reframe these negative thoughts into a positive outlook to go into the civilian world and inspire change and make a difference.
When we entered the military, it broke us down and over the course of time built us back up to be leaders of character, committed to values, prepared for a career of professional excellence and service to our nation. Even out of uniform, we are leaders of character who are committed to our values and prepared for a career of excellence and service to our nation. We are just doing it in a different capacity.
The function of time is important as we look back and move forward. It took us years to build our character, gain knowledge, respect, a greater sphere of influence, and create a large impact within our military units. The same holds true for our civilian lives. We cannot immediately expect or demand the same amount of influence and respect that we had in the military. We must manage our expectations and understand that while we may have a smaller sphere of influence starting out in our civilian careers, that does not mean we lack the ability to make an impact. It took time to establish and distinguish ourselves in the military. It will take time to establish and distinguish ourselves as civilians.
The military taught us a valuable leadership lesson: every individual needs purpose, direction, and motivation. We owe that to ourselves when we exit the military. Once we know our WHY, we can determine how and what we do to achieve it. Our WHY is the belief we have about identity, our values, and our reason for being here. We can conquer and achieve anything once we know our reason for being–our WHY.
Long ago, explorers and travelers used the North Star to guide them through the darkness of night. During our journey into the unknown, our North Star is our personal mission statement–it is the thing that guides us through darkness. We don’t know how we are going to get there, or what we will encounter on our journey, but as long as we stay focused on it, we will eventually reach it.