There was a time when I didn’t think I’d make it to the other side of the US Navy. It wasn’t even that long ago.
After you’ve been doing one thing for so long – even if it’s something you hate – it becomes comfortable and familiar. As time goes on, it becomes harder and harder to separate yourself from it. To make matters more complicated, the Navy makes a point of invading every part of your life, both personal and professional. (I was also pretty depressed and thought the Navy might have the decency to kill me so I wouldn’t have to do it myself. But, spoiler alert: I don’t feel this way anymore!) So after eight years, it got really hard to envision a life outside of the Navy, much less one chasing my dreams. Was it going to be a mistake to turn my back on a reliable paycheck? Would I be able to find a job, and balance work and school at the same time? Will my benefits come through and will they be enough to support me?
The separation process is probably stressful under normal circumstances. It was doubly stressful working with one of the Navy’s worst admin departments during a global pandemic. Somehow, though, after months of sleepless nights and grinding my teeth and frantic phone calls, it all came together. My property was scooped up, my vehicle shipped; the paperwork never really got done done, but it was good enough. On July 31st, I was a civilian again. I got on a plane and went home.
At the time I’m writing this, it’s been less than a month since I separated, and I feel like I’ve been the recipient of a series of miracles. Things fell into place better than I could have imagined in my wildest, most hopeful dreams. I feel happy and energized and motivated in a way that I haven’t felt for a very long time – but it was the result of taking a big, scary step into the unknown, away from the unpleasant but familiar. Hard brake, pivot; start over.
Sometimes things turn out in ways that you can’t anticipate. I guess the risk is that things could be better or worse or even just completely unexpected. For what it’s worth, I’m so glad that the darkness of uncertainty didn’t completely close me off from the possibility of hope for a better life outside of the Navy. Or, at least, it didn’t stop me from throwing myself out of my comfort zone and believing it could turn out okay. It turned out better than okay.