I was born into the military world. It wasn't a choice and I never knew anything different. I was once being interviewed for a project by a friend, and she asked me if I had a choice, would I want to grow up in a different "culture." I stopped and thought for a long time and as I did, all these memories flooded over me and I began to tear up.
I was born on a military base, moved seven times, been to six different schools and been through four deployments. For me, I consider this lucky. I had friends whose parents were deployed many more times, who moved to foreign countries, who changed schools every three years. I was lucky in the eyes of the military. I have been through a lot as a military brat and watching my dad get on that bus, I never knew what was going to happen next. I was scared to go home and listen to my mom cry at night and watch her smoke a pack a day in order to deal with the stress. I waited anxiously for every letter, phone call or Skype chat from my dad.
My mother and I were, thankfully, able to stay in Cadiz, Kentucky about 30 minutes from Ft. Campbell for the majority of my life. My father, on the other hand, saw the world and the sights of war within it. I played baseball, softball, was in the marching band and for many years, I would look to the crowd and see my mom smiling and yelling. But I always wished that my dad's face was there, too. When I was crouched behind the plate and I didn't hear his voice telling me where to look or how to stand, I knew he was just doing his job, but I always missed him.
When you grow up in the military world, you are exposed to an immense amount of information and you are literally growing up in a different culture to that of the people around you. I grew up understanding the in's and out's of a rifle. I knew what a foxhole and what trench warfare were better than a sandbox. I wasn't a normal kid. I could talk to anyone. I had to learn how to make friends fast, and I know where places are based on the military bases in the area. I grew up right after 9/11, so I knew the fear I felt walking through the Pentagon when we were stationed in Virginia. I understood the danger my father was going into when he went to Iraq for the first time when I was 10. But above all that, I knew the immense joy I felt when he would walk off that plane to come home.
I have so many amazing memories and have been given so many incredible opportunities thanks to my father's service and the United States Military. I got to sit inside a Blackhawk helicopter for fun. I got to play on the military bases. I saw every memorial Washington, D.C. had to offer. My entire college undergraduate education was paid for by the Military, thanks to my father's service. I owe so much to the military and the U.S. government, for without them, my parents would've never even met. I wouldn't be here, and I wouldn't be able to tell everyone that I am the proud daughter of an American hero and I am a proud Military brat.