Co-Founder and Executive Director of The Command Presence Foundation Erringer Helbling sheds light on the experiences of veteran women transitioning out of military service.
By: Sinclair Johnson-Knight
When many people think of the word ‘veteran’, they might often find themselves thinking of a husband, a son, an uncle or a grandparent. Some might even picture the character ‘Lieutenant Dan’ from the movie Forrest Gump; a man worn down by age and experience, critically wounded by combat, and exhibiting a terrible temperament. But there is a specific segment of the veteran population that can be, at times, less visible to the outside world. When Erringer Helbling, Co-Founder of The Command Presence Foundation, took off her uniform, she felt that her “command presence” had all but disappeared.
Ms. Helbling, or “Errin”, as she is referred to by her peers, is currently a part-time U.S. Army Reserve Officer and full-time Director of Operations at a groundbreaking space technology startup. She was recruited by the West Point soccer team at the age of 16, where she was pleasantly surprised to find a group of down-to-Earth, “normal” women. During her time at West Point, the man to woman ratio was 8:1, leading her to feel that she was a minority while pursuing a degree in engineering.
“Everything you did, everyone knew,” Errin stated. “One mistake could define you, whereas if you were a man, you could more easily shrug it off. I learned quickly that it was easier to stand out as a woman, and this worked both to my advantage and to my disadvantage.”
On the contrary, when Errin left the military world, she felt invisible, and others immediately expressed disbelief when she shared her military experience, which made her feel invalidated and misunderstood. No one seemed to look at her and see that she had once donned a uniform that represented service and invaluable experience in leading teams through crucial times, from leadership on tactical missions to White House protocol operations. Instead, in the civilian world, she struggled to command recognition and respect, and felt undervalued and pigeonholed into professional roles that did not fully acknowledge, value, or utilize her strengths and military experience.
She also became aware of the fact that a person’s physicality no longer held as much weight when determining merit or professional strengths, and she struggled to find a similar equalizer in the civilian world. For example, she could no longer command respect by challenging a fellow soldier to a push-up match or to race her on an especially long run. Errin’s struggle to become visible now became a struggle to adapt to new definitions of “success” in the civilian working world.
Errin realized that, when her uniform was absent, it was significantly harder to command respect from others. She continued, ”In the Army as a Captain, my comrades knew that I had led hundreds of people when they saw my uniform. Now, it feels like people look at me and cannot relate to or understand me, because that uniform is gone.” She refers to this “uniform” as something that can manifest itself physically and mentally. The uniform that had once stopped a room or solicited a salute of admiration and respect was also something that she found could become internalized.
Errin stated that, once out of the military, it was all too easy to let others label her or put her into certain professional positions, because that is exactly how she was managed in the military. She was not assertive enough, and felt as if she were no longer capable of creating a role for herself. She found that she was mostly just grateful for an opportunity, rather than feeling that she had earned those opportunities herself.
“When I tried to escape the professional label that was assigned me as a veteran, I started to hit walls, and began to lose my command presence,” Errin stated, “Will I always be pigeon-holed, or will I eventually become the leader I know I am meant to be?”
Errin struggled in particular with “imposter syndrome,” the persistent doubt in one’s skills, successes, and value, which challenges one’s sense of professional belonging. When she started a job after her service in the military, these feelings were a constant reminder of how much her confidence had slipped.
“When I started my new job in the tech-space industry, I tried to acclimate rather than embrace my unique value,” Errin expressed. “At that time in my life, I wish I had someone to help me maneuver my confidence. I had mentors who were phenomenal in supporting the bits and pieces of maneuvering the civilian world, but I continued to struggle with finding the uniform that I decided would come with my ‘command presence,’” she declared.
“I once was invited to participate in a very prestigious war game. Having accepted the invitation, when I finally arrived and looked around the invited group of subject matter experts, I was much younger than everyone else, and the only woman,” Errin reminices. “They all knew each other, exchanging welcoming hellos and handshakes, and I didn’t speak when I had a seat at the table. I will admit, I bullied myself and allowed imposter syndrome to consume me, feeling like an outsider, until I began exchanging words with one executive. He quickly told me to be proud and comfortable with my point of view, because I was there for a reason.”
Errin then stated that this experience, one where she realized that she did in fact belong at the table, was an important one. It taught her to become allies with those who are not like you, and to place importance on how a person’s differences can add value to a relationship. Furthermore, it opened her eyes to the work that still needed to be done to bring diverse perspectives to the table, and she recognized that her feelings of discomfort and invisibility would have been further exacerbated for a woman of color.
“It is just a matter of knowing that you are unique, and that your value is measured by how you are different from others rather than similar,” Errin stated. “Once you are able to understand how you can contribute with your own unique point of view, that is where confidence is born.”
This realization, in turn, led to the creation of The Command Presence Foundation.
“At CPF, we help female veterans to process these feelings and experiences with a community of peers, and identify and apply their own unique perspective to their lives and those around them,” Errin states.
“We remind people what they are truly capable of, give women veterans the courage to invest in their own futures, and empower them through persistent self-work and support,” Errin continues. She states that the goal of The Command Presence Foundation is to provide veteran women with the guidance and comrodorie that she once lacked, a strong community, and a place to build long-lasting relationships.
“Let’s come together and defy people’s expectations of who exactly a woman veteran is, including our own.” Errin states.
Educating others on how valuable a woman is, with or without a uniform, is important stuff. So, let us persevere, and make a movement out of it.