Author: Kayla Walker

The Arty Paty +1 recently released a new podcast called “Well, That Was Hard.”  We chatted about the kinds of hard things Marine Corps spouses go through all the time. The moves that go wrong. Trying to go back to work – or keep working. What it’s like to make new friends at new duty stations. The moments that are frustrating enough to laugh about later, but not always funny while we’re living them. 

The point of the podcast was pretty simple: We do hard things. 

Today I have been thinking about hard in a different way. 

Maybe it was fate or maybe it was the internet algorithms, but I came across a clip from Duke women’s basketball coach Kara Lawson where she talked about hard things in a way that stuck with me. She basically said that so many of us are waiting for things to get easier, when really, the goal is to become someone who handles hard better. 

Well, okay then. 

If I’m honest, I probably spend a lot of my life thinking that if I could just get through this one thing, then things would settle down. If I could just make it through this move, this season, this challenge, then maybe life would finally feel easier. 

But that is not really how it works. 

The hard stuff does not  go away. Sometimes it changes shape. Sometimes it lets up for a little while. Sometimes a new kind of hard stuff takes its place. But what I realized is that the real growth is not in waiting for life to get easier. It’s in becoming a person who can carry hard things better than she used to. 

I don’t mean that hard stuff stops being hard. I don’t mean I have some magical mindset where everything rolls off my back. I don’t mean I enjoy the hard parts or welcome them. I do not. 

But I can look back on my life and see that the things that once would have completely undone me don’t hit me the same way anymore. Not because life got softer, but because I got better at doing hard things. 

I think this life teaches that lesson whether we ask for it or not. 

There is always some version of hard. A goodbye. A move. A missed holiday. A changed plan. A season of loneliness. A season of uncertainty. A moment where you realize no one is coming to make it easier, and somehow, you have to figure out how to move through it anyway. 

And over time, I think that does something to a person. 

It builds grit. It builds perspective. It builds a kind of confidence that doesn’t come from having an easy life, but from knowing you have already done hard things before. 

I can do hard things. 

Not always gracefully. Not always with a great attitude. Not always without tears or frustration or a little bit of sarcasm. But I have done them. And when I look back, I can see that the greatest change was not always in my circumstances. The greatest change was in me. 

I handled it better than I used to. 

I’m not waiting for life to get easier. I’ll just try to handle hard better than I did the last time. 

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Behind every strong Marine is a network of strength, resilience, and unwavering support. At the heart of that network are Marine Corps spouses.

That’s why we’re inviting you to nominate a fellow spouse for a Spouse Spotlight on the Behind the Camouflage social media channels and BTC Chronicles. These short snippets shine a light on the incredible things Marine Corps spouses are doing every single day, both big and small.

Or maybe it’s the steady, behind-the-scenes cheerleader who keeps everyone motivated and connected. Whether they lead from the front or serve as the glue holding things together, their impact matters.

The beauty of our Marine Corps spouse community is that greatness doesn’t look just one way. It shows up in acts of service, in professional achievements, in resilience during long separations, and in the small everyday moments that build lasting bonds.

A Spouse Spotlight is more than a feature. It’s an opportunity to lift each other up, celebrate one another’s contributions, and rally around the strength of our community. Recognition builds connection. And connection is what carries us through every PCS, deployment, and new beginning.

We have an amazing community of spouses. Let’s show each other what greatness looks like.

Submit your nomination today by emailing [email protected]. Let’s shine a light on the spouses who make our community stronger.

Welcome to Ask Dr. Monica, a space where real questions from military spouses get honest answers from a licensed therapist who understands the realities of military life.

Dear First-time Military Spouse, 

Military deployments—cue the dread.

I’m a straight-shooter therapist with an empathic heart, so I’m not going to sugarcoat this. Homecoming sits front and center in the lives of military families—and yet, it’s one of the least honestly talked about experiences.

The emotions surrounding military homecoming are layered, messy, and deeply complicated.

Solo parenting is mentally taxing, physically exhausting, and emotionally heavy. And military deployments aren’t a weekend alone with the kids. They’re months—sometimes years—of doing everything without your partner. You don’t get a manual. You don’t have time to read books about “how to survive deployment.” You’re just surviving. One day at a time. Because there’s no other option.

During deployment, most of us don’t even have the luxury of sitting with our worry for our partners overseas. We’re too busy holding everything together at home. Kids. Pets. Work. Illnesses. Appointments. Crises. Logistics. Life. You rise to the occasion because you have to.

What surprises many military spouses—myself included—is the mental agility that develops during deployment. You become adaptable, decisive, resilient. And alongside that, a fierce solo-parenting strength is cultivated. You learn how to run the household, care for your children, manage your career, and put out fires without backup.

But that same strength?
That’s often what creates tension when our service members come home.

Here at home, we have been making every decision. We’ve built the routines. We’ve watched our kids grow. We’ve navigated meltdowns, discipline, doctor visits, school drop-offs, sleepless nights, and sick days. In many ways, we’ve become the heart—and the engine—of the home.

To survive deployment, many of us slip into a “boss babe” mode. Sometimes that means emotionally pulling away from our partner. Other times, it means leaning on them heavily for emotional support while they’re gone, trying to stay connected across the distance.

Either way, a mix of emotions brews while they’re away: resentment, worry, anger, loneliness, overwhelm, emptiness—and then guilt for feeling any of it while our partners are serving, sacrificing, and providing.

And then—if we’re lucky—they come home.

But they don’t always come home in one piece. Maybe not physically. Maybe not mentally. Maybe not emotionally. A lot happened while they were gone—and many service members aren’t exactly the “let’s talk about our feelings” type. They may look “okay,” but refuse treatment, avoid conversations, or shut down altogether.

That’s where we often step in—again. The yin to their yang. The emotional translator. The steady one.

And here’s the part no one prepares us for:
The joy of homecoming can exist right alongside grief, exhaustion, and the desperate need to tap out.

We’re thrilled our family is whole again. And at the same time? We are depleted.

Reintegration isn’t seamless. Bedtime routines don’t magically work again. Children—especially ages 0–2—may cry, resist, or feel disconnected from the returning parent. Anxiety runs high. Stress creeps in. The house feels full… yet unfamiliar.

For many families, this season isn’t smooth sailing—it’s rocky, tender, and quietly heartbreaking.

Because while the family is together again, the connection hasn’t caught up yet. And rebuilding it takes time.

As if we weren’t wearing enough hats already, we add another one: teacher.
Now we’re expected to catch our partners up on everything they missed—discipline, routines, emotional repair, meltdowns, meals, diapers—without making them feel criticized, belittled, or incompetent.

Good luck.
It’s a tall order.

So if you found yourself here—late at night, googling for answers—I don’t pretend to have all of them. But I do know this life. I understand the invisible load, the contradictions, the quiet resentment, and the deep love that coexist in military families.

You’re in the right place.
And if I’m not the right fit for you, I’ll help you find someone who is.

Because everyone deserves support—even those of us holding everything together behind the scenes.

Take good care,

Dr. Monica

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Disclaimer:

The content provided in Ask Dr. Monica is for general informational purposes and reflects the professional opinion of the author. It should not be considered a substitute for medical, psychological, or mental health care from a licensed provider.

The Marine Corps Association and Behind the Camouflage do not provide clinical services through this column. If you need professional support, please contact a licensed provider or Military OneSource at 800-342-9647.