I was happily married for 11 years. Then, my husband joined the military.

• I knew supporting my husband's military career would require sacrifice on my part.
• However, while he thrived in his military career, I felt like I was in constant survival mode.
• If I combine all the time he's been gone, I have parented our children solo for almost two years.

When I became a military spouse after 11 years of marriage, I thought the hardest parts of the military lifestyle would be deployments, frequent moves, or solo parenting our five children.

However, after eight years of being married to an active-duty military member, the hardest part has been figuring out how to mutually support each other's happiness.

While he thrived in his new career as an Air Force officer, I crumbled under the demands of holding our household together, unrelenting loneliness, and lack of opportunity to pursue my goals and dreams.

Before my husband joined the military, I earned my master's degree in English and became an adjunct instructor at a university, balancing motherhood while teaching writing and literature. I had always wanted to be a working mom and I took pride in my accomplishments and career.

I knew supporting my husband's military career would require sacrifice on my part, but I had no idea how much this lifestyle would demand.

My husband's career thrived while mine crumbled

Moving four times in seven years, helping five children adjust to new locations and schools, and trying (sometimes unsuccessfully) to build a community for myself at each new duty station left little time for me to pursue a career or personal goals.

I had ideas for books I wanted to write, but the mental load of the military lifestyle made me feel like I was constantly in survival mode, with little space left to devote to outside projects. I felt my ambitions slipping away and resentment filling its place.

Meanwhile, I watched my husband rise to the top in every position he held. He won awards and was given the responsibilities of a higher-ranking officer because he was such an excellent leader.

Being amazing at his job also meant he was chosen for special deployments and trips. If I combine all the time he's been away in the past eight years, I have parented our children solo for almost two years.

My mind and heart were at war

"I am so proud of you," I told him on a regular basis. "I love that you are able to use your mind and abilities to their fullest potential. And I am dying on the inside."

"I know," he said. "I see how hard this is for you."

His empathy and understanding soothed my heart, but it didn't fix how stuck I felt.

After our first deployment in 2020, an international move, and a second deployment ending in 2023, my mental health was in a tenuous place, even with taking medication to support my depression and anxiety.

I wondered if we were headed for divorce

My husband and I talked regularly about this, sometimes rationally, often emotionally.

Sometimes we fought. Always, we tried to understand each other.

He told me that our marriage and family were more important than his career goals and I wanted to believe him.

However, the more the military demanded, the more fear began to creep in. I wondered if our marriage would survive.

I knew that being a military spouse meant sacrifice, doing my part to support my husband as he fought for our country.

As I became a shell of the person I once was, though, battling intense depression, anxiety, and loneliness, I realized that I also needed to fight for myself.

Through each painful fight, each empathetic conversation, and each situation where we decided to seek the best for the other person, we realized that to be a successful military couple, we had to fight for each other.

Sacrifice isn't just a requirement of a military spouse

Sometimes it takes sacrifice on both sides in order to make a relationship work. My husband realized that he had to fight for my happiness, too.

He wanted to stay in the military, doing the work he loves, but I needed more stability. So, two years ago, he transferred to the Space Force.

We are hopeful that this new branch will require fewer moves and deployments for our family.

He also deferred a dream of going to special training that would require him to be away for six months until our family is more settled.

When I had surgery recently, he told his leadership that taking care of me was his first priority, and he took time off.

Earlier this year, when I came home from a five-hour interview as part of the application process for a master's degree in clinical mental health counseling, he had cooked a steak dinner, poured my favorite wine, and purchased fresh flowers to celebrate this next step in my life.

"I haven't even gotten in!" I said.

"I want you to know that I'm proud of you," he said and clinked his wine glass against mine.

I got my acceptance letter a week later.

I'm learning to trust that when he says our marriage and family are his first priority, he means it because his actions reveal his heart.

While I'm preparing for him to be gone on future trips, he's been working on moving his GI Bill educational benefits to help fund my graduate school goals.

We're still figuring out what it means to have a successful marriage while navigating military demands, but we're committed to making our partnership work so we can both thrive.