Today, I am officially out of the Navy. To civilian life I return. People generally laugh when I use the term “civilian”. I suppose it may sound a little weird but it is the best way to differentiate military things and people vs. non-military things and people. I am now a non-military person. I do not feel any different. I decided over a year ago that this would be the end of my service. Also, for the last few months, I have been functionally separated from the Navy. I don’t feel any shock or drastic change in my life is what I am trying to say. My transition out of the Navy has been a slow, drawn out ordeal. But now it is finally here.

For the past six years, I lived in an incredibly tight and bubbled community in the Navy. There are tremendous pros and cons to this aspect of my service. In one sense, I was able to feel like I had a second family and got to know my co-workers and friends very well. On the other hand, for as much as I traveled, I think I was isolated from the world and other groups of people. Reality and my perception of the world was secured from challenge and rebuke as long as I did not leave my bubble. It is galvanizing to be a part of a true team that is genuinely focused on moving in the same direction with common purpose and identity. I can imagine fully embracing this lifestyle. Years would quickly turn into decades. I could always find meaning and comfort in the people who lived the same life I did. 

I have an infinite amount of respect for the men and women who spend their lives dedicated to wholehearted service to their community, values, and the common good. As I separate, I will take with me an intimate understanding of the joys, struggles, camaraderie, and responsibilities that exist in a career of military service. I will always have a soft spot for service members and veterans.

When I was playing high school soccer (Orioles fly together), our assistant coach was named Kevin. Kevin was also a veteran. I remember before one game all us players and coaches lined up for the national anthem. During the anthem, we dutifully stood still with our hands over our hearts. However, apparently a few players were talking and moving around during the anthem. Nothing was said in the immediate aftermath but after the game Kevin told us to get lined up. After a 90 minute game it was time for some sprints. As we ran lap after lap, Kevin passionately explained to us what his service meant to him and his country. I don’t know whether or not he felt personally disrespected, but he understood that this was a teaching moment to get some young men to think about what it meant to be a citizen. To not take our country for granted. 

Allow me to look past how that the national anthem has been used in odd ways over the years. In many ways, it is a politicized event in itself. This is not at all a commentary on the nuances of the national anthem. Personally, I am just thinking back to running laps on the soccer field. Thinking about how I responded then versus how I would respond now. I was 17 or 18 and I remember just running the laps and hoping they would be over soon. I was exhausted and thought Kevin was overreacting. We are sorry, please, let us go home. Here today, over ten years later, I understand where Kevin was coming from. The meaning behind the national anthem dug far deeper than a simple song. It was a reminder of the military service and community that he once dedicated his life to. Kevin was intimately familiar with men and women who had sacrificed and served alongside him. While belting “the rockets red glare… the land of the free…” is an emotionally charged piece of music, for Kevin it was personal in a way that none of us kids were mature enough to appreciate.

I will never lose the core memories that marked my military service. Similarly to Kevin, I imagine the national anthem will spark those memories more often than not. I wonder what memories Kevin was replaying in his mind on that day. I have no doubt they carried emotional weight and revolved around times spent with close friends. All serving something greater than themselves. It does not surprise me now that Kevin was so upset with us. As he reminisced and reflected on his time in the service, he had to look on as a group of 17 and 18 year old men (some of us getting ready to vote for the first time) dicked around with no apparent compassion or thought to what it meant to be an adult citizen. If I were in his shoes now, I would also be frustrated. I get it. 

I have no idea who we played in that game. I have no idea what the score was. But for whatever reason, Kevin’s teaching moment while we ran laps stuck with me. While I may not have appreciated it then, I can at least empathize with Kevin now. Over a decade late, but thank you Kevin for trying to teach us an important lesson.

Military service is only one way to be a contributing member of our community. I will always be the first to admit that it gets exalted to an undeserved pedestal. I believe there are countless ways to serve our neighbors, the values we cherish, and those we love. That is a major reason why I decided to end my service and pursue a new profession. 

As previously mentioned, that galvanizing feeling of everyone around me striving in the exact same direction, towards the exact same goal, is uniquely intoxicating. What is not as intoxicating and easily digestible is thinking about the vast number of people who live in our country and in our world. The different wishes, troubles, and beliefs of all the people are overwhelming to a stifling degree. The complexity with which all of humanity interacts is staggering and too often highlighted by our differences, instead of our commonalities. But the sweet pursuit of everyone striving together on the same mission does not frequently exist in the real world. 

I find the complexities of the civilian world daunting in some ways. In many ways, life is simplified in the military. Schedules, coworkers, living locations, healthcare, retirement planning, and above all else, common purpose, are all freely (but non-negotiably) given to a service member. I mostly worked with men from similar backgrounds, with similar takes on life. We were given our purpose and eagerly took up any chance to act on it. But now as a civilian once more, I will have to contend with reality in a way I have been insulated from the past six years. 

This is what I want. I want to contend with the complex realities that life offers and do my best to be kind and truthful in every situation. I want to meet people who have a completely different take on life and how we should spend our precious time alive. I want to be a good citizen and community member. I want agency to define my own purpose. I want to explore the things that drive me internally, instead of always having an external drive pushing me forward. 

I am about halfway through day one. Out in the wild. The “civilian” life. It is new and exciting. Unknown and overwhelming. Hopefully, I make it to day two.