Being the Perfect Military Wife is Exhausting

Welcome to "Threeway," a regular Double X discussion feature in which three contributors dissect politics and culture from distinct points of view. Our second discussion is among three women who have written memoirs about their experiences as military wives: Lily Burana, author of I Love a Man in Uniform: A Memoir of Love, War, and Other Battles [2], Alison Buckholtz, author of Standing By: The Making of an American Military Family in a Time of War [3], and Sophia Raday, author of Love in Condition Yellow [4]. This is part three. Read part one here [5] and part two here [6].

Dear Alison and Lily,

The countdown to deployment is such an agonizing time for a military spouse. Alison, you asked whether it was more difficult to stay on base or leave. I think you’ll find it’s a mixed bag.

You, like Lily, like me, will no doubt notice more acutely how you’ve been changed by your military experience once you are back in your old environment. When I came home to Berkeley after a year living on post at the Army War College in conservative Carlisle, Pa., I was both relieved and somewhat resentful to be among my liberal peers again. It was nice not to be so isolated politically, and yet I felt very acutely that most people here were not touched by the war the way my family was.

I’ve been chided for that line you mentioned, Alison, “Berkeley, a place where people like to pretend war doesn’t exist,” because of course there are many people here who are very aware of the horrors of war and deeply committed to ending them. But others seemed, at least in my lonely state, to be taking Bush’s directive to heart: doing their part for the war by going shopping.

On the other hand, I experienced some freedom in leaving the base. While I did miss the military spouse sisterhood that transcended differences in background, education, and experience, I didn’t miss the pressure I sensed to perform a pre-conceived role. I’m talking about the “Perfect Army wife” you describe so aptly, Lily. Even though officially a wife’s performance should no longer affect a husband’s promotion opportunities, we somehow still feel a strong pressure to conform. On base, I felt a sense of scrutiny—real or imagined, I’m not quite sure. I know even my husband felt the burden, judging by the weekly attention he gave to our lawn on post that he never gave our garden at home.

When my husband was first mobilized, I was given a thick red “Family Readiness” binder. On the first page was The Prayer of the Army Spouse: “Dear God”, it began, “I am proud to be wed to one who defends freedom and peace...” (OK, a little simplistic, but I am proud of my husband.) “You are the symbol of my religious beliefs…” (please don’t tell me how to express my religious beliefs)…”Make willing my heart and hands to do even the smallest tasks that will make our house a better home (yikes, get me out of here).

The military’s “Family Readiness Group” system still rankles me occasionally. I know that FRG—a codified program of trainings and volunteer structure to link unit spouses and families—is a step forward for the military because it is at least an acknowledgment of the family’s needs. My uncle, who is a retired Army colonel, informs me that in his day, the Army’s attitude was “if the Army wanted you to have a family, it would issue you one.”

And yet, I have to confess that I bridled when I found out that because my husband was named chairman of his seminar at the War College, I was expected to volunteer my time as Seminar Spouse Leader. It was assumed I would attend monthly Spouse Leader meetings, organize monthly spouse get-togethers as well as our seminar's participation in “mandatory fun”: making holiday gift baskets to be auctioned off for charity at the holiday spouse luncheon; decorating the all-ranks club for dances; and producing recipes for the spouse cookbook. I tried to imagine the opposite occurring: someone at my publisher meeting my husband, finding out he was a police officer and a soldier, and asking him to volunteer to provide security for their authors. It would never happen in a million years.

Still, I decided, after everything, that I wanted to be part of the army’s “let’s all pull together” spirit. I recognized that being a soldier is more than an occupation, it is a commitment to something bigger than yourself, and bigger even, than your family. I respect that even though I also sometimes feel bitter about subordinating my needs as an individual to the needs of the military, part of me wishes I were able to be the perfect Army wife, selflessly helping my husband achieve in the military without resentment. I know my husband, like your husbands, is a talented leader. If Barrett wants to be a general in the Army Reserves, I don’t want to be the thing standing in his way.

But sometimes in my desire to be an uncomplaining Mrs. Stepford, I take on too much alone. When I tell him I am cracking, it is with a tremendous sense of defeat, wishing I could be tougher, wishing I didn’t need his attention and his engagement with our two kids. And yet another part of me says what about my needs and dreams? Should they be secondary? Trying to be the Perfect Military Wife doesn’t work. Instead, it is acknowledging my limitations and hopes and doubts to my husband (and vice versa) that has always been our best path to intimacy.

How about you, Lily and Alison, do you ever feel the military’s demands on your husband and your family result in you sacrificing your own dreams? Given that we all know that being a service member is one of the most demanding and important jobs in the world, and that of course we want to be supportive partners, have you found a way to be faithful both to yourself and to your marriage?

Yours,

Sophia