military stories

Confession: I Have Social Anxiety

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Originally published by NextGenMilSpouse on January 29, 2018

I have a secret.

It’s not Lifetime Movie of the Week caliber. It’s not even a “break apart your marriage and family” type of skeleton in the closet.

But it is my secret.

It’s more like the thing you reveal at cocktail parties when someone poses the question: “What is a fact no one knows about you?”

I’m an introvert.

Confession: I Have Social Anxiety and I'm an Air Force Wife

I’m not a traditional introvert; I don’t need alone time. In fact, I tend to get antsy if I stay home all day by myself.

I don’t need down time to recharge my batteries either.

What I really don’t like is social functions and socializing; I have a form ofsocial anxiety. You know, “the fear of interaction with other people that brings on self-consciousness, feelings of being negatively judged and evaluated, and, as a result, leads to avoidance.”

Are you surprised?  I appear to be a woman who loves to party and socialize. But I don’t. At least not until I’m comfortable in a situation. I think there are more of us out there than people know.

According to one study from Dr. Bella DePaulo mentioned in the book “How to Work a Room a Guide to Successfully Managing the Mingling,” 75% of people have social anxiety when they are at a party with strangers. That means that 3 out of 4 of us don’t like the most common situations in the military-forced fun.

Confession: I Have Social Anxiety and I'm an Air Force Wife

Growing up I was the biggest extrovert you would know. I was a talker and I danced everywhere it was possible; in the dance studio as well as in the halls at school. I didn’t sit still. Strike that. I COULDN’T sit still. I had a desire to be moving and to be the center of everyone’s world.

When I had children all that changed. I didn’t want to be the center of attention or the life of the party. I wanted to stay home and be with my family. I also found that I preferred to listen rather than speak. Those two qualities combined to change my temperament and my desire to socialize.

This turned out to be bad timing. As I began to feel more and more at ease with my cocoon, my kids got older and I was running out of alibis to not go to social functions with my service member. I excused myself from First Fridays. I even canceled my invite to spouse functions.

When my husband was selected to command a squadron, I bowed out from Airman Leadership School graduations and I passed on chief induction ceremonies. I used the kids as an excuse. They always needed me for something – whether it was a school activity, band competition or sport. One parent had to be there, right? That was why I was a stay at home parent who worked part-time. I believed that my children should have one constant in their lives. The military couldn’t offer us that stability so I provided it.

A few years later, my spouse was given a group. A group! What a great day and affirmation of his abilities! But what a sad day for me. We aren’t required to do anything but the pressure is still there. I didn’t succumb to peer pressure instead I decided to take part in this facet of his life.

My first event as a second-time C.O.W. (Commanding Officer’s Wife)was a Patch On event. This is when the students who have gone through training are assigned to their new operations squadrons. My first touch of anxiety came when they said I had a seat in the front of the auditorium and would be introduced. What?? This was not what I expected.

Confession: I Have Social Anxiety and I'm an Air Force Wife

I got through that day with the help of the other squadron commanders who made me feel at home. That experience gave me the confidence to continue. It also helped that now I knew a few people.

A squadron picnic came next. Talk about anxiety inducing. I was hoping that my spouse would be there with me so that I could tag along with him.

He’s my security blanket, after all. But of course, he ran late and so I went solo.

I found one person I knew and talked with them but that can only last so long. I found my way to the buffet line and stayed quiet. Slowly people came up to me and started conversations. It’s still not easy when you have little to say. After I ate, I left defeated and tired.

[Tweet “3 out of 4 of military spouses don’t like military-forced fun.”]

Each new activity started the same way: find someone to latch onto and hope more people you know arriveso you can talk to them and not feel foolish.

I hated meeting new people. As soon as the introduction was over, I would forget their names and faces. It was embarrassing when I would say, “Nice to meet you” to someone I’d already been introduced to. My social anxiety didn’t lessen.

Eventually these functions that I forced myself to attend got easier. The more often I saw people, the easier it was to relax around them. I became my outgoing self.

I learned to say, “How are you?” instead of “Nice to meet you.” And then I played off the fact that I meet so many people, it takes a few times before I remember. Everyone understood and I think they appreciated my candor. I can say that after two years “in the job,” I felt more at ease but not completely comfortable.

[Tweet “The more often I saw people, the easier it was to relax around them”]

New anxiety begins at every new base but I need to look back on my time at the group level and remind myself that I can do it! Practice is supposed to make perfect but I’m striving for contentment; contentment with my mental well-being and myself.

Oh The Stories They Will Tell

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Originally published by NextGenMilSpouse on July, 7, 2017

My husband and I were married right out of college. He is still active duty but there are times when I feel like I’m hitched to a retiree in his late 70s and not a man in his mid-40s. Plenty of military spouses are in the same situation. It’s not their physical attributes that have changed and it’s not that they have diminished mental capacity but there is a syndrome that occurs. Read on and find out what fate awaits you too.

I noticed the onset when we were first married. As soon as my husband would be in a room with another service member, shoptalk would commence. You couldn’t get away from it.

My friends and I would wonder how they could spend all day together in training and still rehash it later that week.

I questioned it but I understood.

As a college student, your world was the classroom.

As a new mom, my life revolved around my newbornand not much else. My domain was small and my conversation centered on my infant.

For them, it was also a way to decompress and bond with their fellow students.

As they progressed from training to a combat squadron, the shoptalk continued but with an added bonus – a story.

As I quickly learned, it only had to be 10% true and should start with “there I was….”

Initially this was an exciting time for me. I would learn more about what life was like during TDYs and deployments. Since my husband was gone over 200 days a year, it made sense that there were anecdotes. I heard about people and places that may not have come up during normal conversation. I enjoyed hearing how life was in other locations. I laughed at the antics of my husband and his cohorts. Each new deployment brought new adventures and that in turn meant new sagas.

Oh The Stories Service Members Tell

Then we had to change duty stations. Cue new people to meet and new stories to be told. This pattern continued for a few more assignments until we were reunited with people from past locations.

Again, stories were exchanged and laughs were had by all. It didn’t take long, though, before the old stories came out.

The first time it happened, I thought nothing of it. You can’t remember who was at the last party or function so you’re not sure who has heard the tale. But as the year progressed and the stories were repeated, I began to feel like I was in the Twilight Zone.

I kept this reaction to myself since we were at a location that rewarded competition but I also secretly noted that my spouse wasn’t the only one with a hat in the game.

Another assignment cycle found us at school. Again, the anecdotes were told and friends shared their own accounts of life in the military.

I understood that there were new audiences for these narratives so even though I could tell these stories in my sleep, I recognized the desire to share.

But now I wondered if the movie “Groundhog Day” was part of my life too. It looked as if I was destined to relive our life over and over again.

A few more years and we were back with people from his career field. I assumed that the pattern would continue for a while but then taper off. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Get service members together and you can’t keep them quiet. The yarns get bigger in proportion to the number of times it has been spoken and the participants who are listening now. It’s a mathematical formula that should be in the textbooks!

At this point, I found the courage to ask other military spouses if they too have heard their spouse’s stories ad nauseum. A resounding “YES!” was the answer. “Thank goodness I’m not alone” is the only reaction I have.

We then started our own discourse on our lives and the all-encompassing nature of the military lifestyle. As civilians, it seems easier to separate your work and your social life. In the military, that separation tends to be much smaller.

The military IS your life. You eat, sleep, drink and breathe your service. It really is an all-or-nothing proposition.

Now that many of our friends are retiring from active duty, the stories are continuing. Often they no longer start with “there I was” but they are prefaced with “do you remember?” I’m not sure if the switch came about because of their age or because they decided to change things up a bit.

But either way, I’ve come to accept that my social life is going to be made up with the same fish tales that I’ve heard before. As a good spouse, I will smile and laugh when appropriate.

But I’ve also learned that my husband has earned the right to repeat himself. It’s not just reliving the glory days, it’s reminiscing and remembering a life well lived.