I spend far more time on Facebook than I really should. On one hand, this is a tool that helps me keep in contact with people I would not otherwise speak with, and have not, for a long time. On the other hand, it is a “time suck” and I suddenly find myself wrapped up in other people’s drama. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about social media, its role in my life, and the role I would like to have it play in the future.

A few weeks ago I clicked on a link that would show me my past ten years on Facebook – a visual illustration of the good and bad times that have occurred. The video was pretty cool, and reminded me of some of the biggest things that have happened in the last decade of my life. But, to be honest, it really only showed the pieces I had chosen to share in the first place.

I had already weeded through pictures of me with my ex, photos that I didn’t like, and postings on my wall which were inappropriate or unhelpful. So, the video was not really an accurate portrayal – it was a recap of the moments I chose to share about myself.

This doesn’t mean that it wasn’t true – it just wasn’t the whole truth.

Almost two years ago (wow, has it really been that long?), my wife Susan deployed to Afghanistan. I would frequently update my status on Facebook when I received good news about how she was doing, and when she was coming home. These posts made an appearance in my Facebook video. But the posts about the nights I stayed up crying, worried for her safety, did not. The posts about the struggles of spending our first wedding anniversary apart weren’t in there either. And this is because I didn’t post about those moments on Facebook. I chose not to put those moments on display.

Social media can be a way for people to connect with one another in ways that they would not normally connect. But that connection requires us to be authentic and true.

When Susan deployed, I found the American Military Partner Association (AMPA) and connected with the group via Facebook. This was an amazing opportunity for me to connect with other same-sex military spouses. It was especially helpful to me as the wife of a Reservist, who does not live on or near a military installation. AMPA was a window into a new community of supportive people who were struggling with some of the same issues I was. But, again, I was not always fully open and honest in those conversations. I felt pressure to keep my life in order and present it as “together” and “stable.” I did not speak in the group forums about my authentic experience.

Deployments are hard. Life is hard. We know this. So why aren’t we better about sharing that burden with one another?

I am a person who loves groups, but prefers more close-knit friendships with people. Through AMPA I met some amazing people – in person, face-to-face. One of those people is Lauren Lamoly, who some of you know. Lauren and I shared a lot about the difficulties and celebrations of being military partners. We spoke about deployments and our experiences of them, and we built a strong and lasting friendship – a friendship that would not have started if it were not for Facebook or AMPA. I am thankful for this.

I am also thankful that when my wife returned from her deployment and went TDY, she was able to attend a pool party hosted by AMPA members. She had dinner with Ashley Broadway-Mack and Heather Mack, and started a friendship with them. These are friendships and connections that would not have happened if it weren’t for Facebook or AMPA.

There is tremendous potential in AMPA and through social media to build lasting and intentional friendships and connections. There is an opportunity for us to share our experiences, in their entirety, in a way that is meaningful and purposeful. But this potential and opportunity requires us to be authentic and true about our lives. I’m not suggesting that we all air our dirty laundry for the whole world to see, but I am suggesting that we don’t have to censor the things that are difficult and hard.

If I am going to spend too much time on Facebook, or any social media outlet, I want it to be time well spent. I want to know if you’re having a hard time, and I want you to know when I am. Because, inevitably, we will all have bad days. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone “there” when we do? I think so.

I can’t tell you how many times clients or friends have tried to tell me that they don’t make enough money to save. I truly understand what they mean: their budgets are tight and they are having problems finding extra cash to set aside for a rainy day. But what if I told you that there are ways you can save money that really don’t have much to do with what you’re spending your money on but rather how you’re spending your money?

Mind blown, right?!

Let’s look at a common why and how behind a spending category, like food.

Here’s the why: Ya gotta eat.

Here’s the how: I go to the grocery store when I need food.  I don’t really use a list.  I don’t meal plan.  And I go to the store every two weeks.  Oh, and did I mention I go on an empty stomach?

The result? Overspending.

Don’t get me wrong, the why of how you spend is very important; for many people it’s the why that gets them into real lasting trouble by shopping to fill a void or seeing ones personal value in the acquisition of stuff (read: materialism).  But the how of spending is such an easy thing to address that we’d be remiss not to look at how changing our spending hows can impact budget’s bottom line.

Why don’t we look at a few more situations where you can save money on by changing the how behind what  you’re doing!

Grocery shopping

There are so many ways to save money on grocery shopping that have absolutely nothing to do with coupons (Seriously, I suck at coupons.  I even wrote about it on my blog). The money saving rules of grocery shopping are simple.  Make a menu, make a list from that menu, eat before you go to the store, and stick to the list.

I can’t tell you how much money I’ve saved by just incorporating menu planning into my budget.  It keeps me from overspending on random grocery items vis-a-vis grocery shopping induced ADD (Ooh! Brownie mix is on sale!) and from overbuying on produce that inevitably goes bad because I have no idea what to do with it or due to the fact that I forgot about said produce.

Going out for a night on the town with friends

The rule of saving that comes with this one is simple: Do not open a tab on your card.  DO NOT.  Going out for drinks with friends can get pricey and let’s get real, the more bevies you consume, the more friendly you get, and the looser with your money you become.  Stick to a cash budget for your girls’ or guys’ night out and you won’t find yourself hungover- well at least your budget won’t be!

Headed out on a date?  Don’t knock the day date.  The last time I checked, lunch is cheaper than dinner and matinees are cheaper than evening shows.  Got kids? Find friends you don’t mind swapping kids with and save on sitters (Thank goodness Amanda Crowe of In Gear Career for Military Spouses lives nearby.  We’re saving between $40-80 a month on sitters…EACH!)

Buying clothing

Let’s be honest.  Most of us have enough clothing in our closets to dress a small country.  Before you buy, shop in your closet first.  Chances are you’ve got a several pieces you forgot about!  If you really need some new duds, don’t knock clothing swaps with like-style friends or take a note out of Macklemore’s book and hit the thrift shop. I’m not ashamed to say that my latest pair of new-to-me pants were $15 at my fave  consignment shop.

See?  Saving money isn’t only about emergency and retirement savings.  It’s really as simple as changing how you do things!

Adrianna Domingos-Lupher co-founded MSB New Media and launched the first global Military Spouse Bloggers network with Carmen Grant in June 2012. She is the creator of Military Money Chica and currently serves as the editor of NextGen MilSpouse. Adrianna believes that social media has transformed the military spouse experience and that it’s time for brands to pay attention to this largely untapped resource of motivated and eager military spouse social media professionals. When she’s not wrangling her two munchkins or taking over the world from behind the screens, she’s sitting on the couch with a giant mug of coffee trying to figure out what she ought to be doing other than sitting on the couch. Oh, and she secretly loves to fold laundry because it affords her guiltless tv time.

As a service member, you can be a leader in the first military-wide pride month observance celebration! This is the very first year that Pride is an official Defense Equal Opportunity Management Institute (DEOMI) sanctioned event.

Pride Month Observance is scheduled for Friday, June 27th, 2014, as a service member coordinated event. It will be conducted to recognize the continuous achievements and contributions of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) service members and civil service employees to increase awareness, mutual respect, and understanding. Pride Month has been designed to enhance cross-cultural awareness and promote harmony among all military members, their families, and the civilian work force.

The focus of Pride Month 2014 should be directed toward encouraging interaction and not just recognition. Pride Month is held annually in support of a Presidential Proclamation, and the many achievements of LGBT members in the society of the United States.

Since 1968, the Department of Defense (DoD) has proudly supported observances through the development of local programs of recognition and many diverse activities. Only recently has the Department of Defense recognized Pride Month with a special observance at the Pentagon in 2012 and 2013. A few events also took place in 2013 outside of the Pentagon, however with your efforts, 2014 will go down in history as the first military-wide pride month observance.

Are you ready to step up and start planning at your local installation?

Here’s how to do it:

It is extremely important that ALL Pride Month planners follow the Department of Defense Guidance for Organizing Observances provided by Defense Equal Opportunity Management Institute.

The following sample documents have been drafted in support of your planning phases:

• Military PRIDE Month 2014 Program
• Military PRIDE Month 2014 Press Release
• Military PRIDE Month 2014 Planning Timeline
• Military PRIDE Month 2014 Command Message
• Military PRIDE Month 2014 Thank You Letter
• Military PRIDE Month 2014 Participation Request

It’s also important to utilize these major resources as they will play an essential role in sponsoring a Pride Month:

• Strong Command Support. The commander is the primary key to the success of the program.
• Quality Leadership. The Pride Month project officer is also a key to a successful Pride Month Observance and should be enthusiastic, aggressive, and in tune with DoD objectives.
• Planning. The magnitude of the Pride Month Observance depends on the interest, desire, and involvement of the installation community. A total community approach in the planning and participation of Pride Month (getting everyone involved) cannot be overstated. A Pride Month committee may be appointed with various subcommittees and agencies tasked with specific duties. Planning must be thorough and accomplished well in advance of the Pride Observance.
• Funding. Adequate funding is necessary. Without it, programs will be significantly limited in success. Funding will be required for honorariums, food/lodging, transportation, special educational programs, publicity, printing, etc.
• Additional On-Base Resources. Personnel should establish liaisons with the following:
  • Chaplains
  • Post/Base Newspaper
  • Equal Employment Opportunity Office
  • Staff Judge Advocate (SJA)
• Off-Base Resources. When appropriate, personnel should establish liaisons with:
  • LGBT Groups/Community Centers
  • Museums,community libraries, radio and television networks, schools/universities, civic groups, state/local government, and ethnic/cultural groups.

Don’t forget to DOWNLOAD AND UTILIZE OBSERVANCE GUIDANCE

Keep us up to date on your progress and let us know if you have any questions by emailing us at partners@militarypartners.org

He had been floundering for months, itching to find the thing that would make him tick. Nothing really settled him. Nothing kept his attention. There was this old idea born in the days of his high school years, pre September 11th, not particularly well received from his family, pushed under the rug to forget about it. This idea was to serve his country in the Armed Forces.  I was seeing the websites he was visiting like goarmy.com or navy.com. When I walked by him, he would swiftly change the page again pushing it under the rug so I wouldn’t see, but I knew something was brewing.

When he told me he was thinking about enlisting, I was pretty upset (to say the least). We were caught up in two wars, and an uncertainty about what this would mean for us made it difficult to be my supportive self.  And although the vote to strike down “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” had been completed, my mind could only think of all the ways we, more specifically he, would be discriminated against. I begged and pleaded for him to find something else… anything, but he was set on enlisting.

Tom and I share a very special bond, one that we could never have imagined to be so true and loving. We often laugh about how it feels like we have only been together a short time, but really it has been nearly a decade. From the day he enlisted to the day I picked him up at MEPS in Miami, having him close as he prepared for this new adventure seemed bittersweet. He was doing something he really wanted to do, but everyday meant one more day closer to him actually leaving and our lives changing forever. I am not going to lie, I thought I was a strong soul and that I could just plow my way through this like nobody’s business. Not only was I wrong, I was in denial, ignoring reality, and most importantly ignoring my own health.  We had been together nearly every day for several years, and this would be the first time we were apart for more then a couple days.

We moved back to Vermont a few months before his planned departure, so that I could be closer to family. Those few weeks flew by like a jet plane. It culminated the day I drove him to the MEPS station in Albany, NY. We drove in circles for what seemed like only a few minutes, but was actually hours. I dropped him off, we said our goodbyes, and I saw the love of my life walking away in the rearview mirror. It didn’t hurt until I saw him turn around to see if I was still there. I was. I couldn’t even think how to shift the car into drive. Somehow I managed to do so, but only made it about a mile before waterworks ensued. Lonely at home, looking at pictures, hanging on every beep, ring, or blip that came from my iPhone thinking it could be him calling or texting, the world stopped when it actually was him.

I struggled greatly those next three months. I lost nearly 25 pounds, and my diet was more like a bird then human. Simple things would set me off, with anger or sadness. Things I never could have imagined as triggers would send me into spirals of tears and sobbing. I still hadn’t fully understood why he wasn’t with me. I couldn’t focus on work, on life, all I was doing was crying. The “let’s just plow through it” mentality certainly was taking its course. And wouldn’t you know I was trying to just push things under the rug, like Tom had done so many times. I knew better then that, but what were my options?  So I called my doctor, thinking they would think I’m crazy, maybe its just me making things up.  But after just a few minutes of talking to the nurse, let alone the doctor I had since I was a child, I knew I had made the right decision. He knew I was facing something I never imagined admitting I had… depression. Here I was for the first time thousands of miles away from my partner, admitting and accepting that I was ill, all while trying to grasp what my life was about to become.  There certainly is a first time for everything.

Soon after the diagnosis, and talking with friends and family about what I was going through, my mind started in the right direction. But it wasn’t until the day I was headed to Ft. Sill, taking the train to New York, and catching the most direct flight possible when I found my bottom, and panicked.  On the plane I was frightened about not being accepted, being rejected at the Ft. Sill gate from entry because I wasn’t “family.” The possibility of flying all that way, and not being able to see him, was pulling me apart inside. Of course everything went off smoothly. But one more challenge was ahead… the flight home. Arriving at home, I was doing anything to get my mind off of him. Ultimately, it meant another discussion with my doctor, and a realization, that I couldn’t let depression define me.

It took me way too long to realize that I needed help. Way too long to admit that something just wasn’t right. And way too long to realize that it was equally painful for Tom to be apart from me. Those few months of soul searching were enough to solidify what had already been a strong relationship. With a new found realization that my health and well-being was in order and under control, I found a new start, a first. Forgetting the stigma attached to depression and other mental illnesses was difficult at times, but I am living proof that being honest with yourself garners the best outcome.

From that moment forward, our bond has never been stronger. Our determination to be the best partners in life has amplified itself, and we are closer now, then ever before. Now I’m not going to say everything was smooth sailing ahead, there have already been many more adventures and challenges we had to overcome. For now however, this Valentine’s weekend, the love of my life is home, safe, and I never imagined I could be more proud of him or love him as much as I do today. Tom (now my husband) and I, our love is renewed. Our vision is laser-focused. I owe most of my sanity to AMPA, because it was only then did I realize I was not the only one. Reading stories and discussions about the exact things I was feeling removed the feeling of loneliness. Talking it out, understanding where you are coming from, and where others have been, will dull the scary parts, and prepare you for the uneasy ones.

No longer a “First Timer,” my advice: don’t be afraid to say something. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Don’t go it alone.

Many of us have been together a very short amount of time, and a great deal have been together a significant time longer. That said, we have varying opinions of the quality and substance to our relationships. It is not all too uncommon to believe there is more or less than there actually is.

I will be quite candid about my own personal experiences and hope that you can relate.

When I left active duty status in 2007, I didn’t want to be involved with the service again. I was done. It was over. Time to hang up and walk away with a pin, flag, and a few nice words from colleagues. As many of us learned very quickly, we didn’t even have time to exit the nearest gate before being forgotten. Separation anxiety affects even the strongest of us. The feeling of fear can even be overwhelming for one.

Fast forward to early 2011. These messages keep coming through on the dating website. The second I see ADAF, I’m done. The messages are nice enough, “Let’s go to dinner sometime…”

My typical response: No, thank you.

“Let’s go to a movie this weekend.”

Nope! Not getting mixed up in this mess again. He’s entirely too young and an active duty service member. I don’t want to get involved with this.

This interaction took place about once every couple weeks for nearly three quarters of the year until finally, I was worn down and a little lonely. I conceded.

When he arrived at my door, I was enamored by this dark, handsome one.  It was absolute love. I had been struck by a lightening bolt. He really was the kindest and sweetest man I’d encountered in my entire life. We went to dinner that evening, and as the saying goes, the rest is history.

We’ve spent a total of four days apart since that October afternoon in 2011.

We’ve had our ups and downs and that is surely to be expected; however, we were also rallying together and fighting for our employer and previous employer to recognize our marriage; to recognize we exist.

26 June came and went and we felt victorious. We were finally recognized. We were finally able to use proper verbiage when addressing each other in the private  yet public active duty service arena.

Next came 3 September, when we were all officially recognized as equal human beings by our government.

Seventeen days later, my grandmother passed away. Without skipping a beat, my husband’s Security Forces Squadron kicked into high gear; delivering food, flowers, condolences, and any other assistance they could muster. A collection was taken up and hand delivered to our front door. Emergency leave was granted and encouraged. Phone calls, emails, and personal visits flooded our home over the next three weeks; from people we didn’t even know. Finally, the day of the funeral, several members of the Squadron decided to don their service dress and present arms at the funeral. It still brings a tear to my eye. This act of generosity, not more than 17 days after we were officially recognized, will endear the 802d SFS to my family for a generation. I know this seems a little off topic, but the reality is that 2013 sent my husband and I into a very dark, dangerous place. A place neither of us was proud or happy to be in. I feel no shame in needing help. A lot of AMPA members had a rough go of it in 2013. There is no shame or weakness in asking for or SEEKING the assistance of a benefit we are granted!

With the flood of emotions, victories, and not so victorious moments; it is very normal to feel overwhelmed. We have a lot of new information to process; a lot of us are, by experience, operating contrary to everything we were taught and used during our tenure. It’s scary. Can we hold hands without fear of being chastised? What will someone think? Did they just say something about us? It will take a while for the fear to dissipate.

That said, our relationship began to suffer. With little left to rally against; what do we do now? Settle into our work lives. Clean the house. Mow the yard. Shovel the drive. Run that errand. Meet him at base for lunch. A distance began to form. Our relationship began to feel stale. I grew frightened. I grew despondent. When I found myself unable to empathize with my husband’s plight; I knew something was wrong.

Enter Behavioral Health.

For those of us lucky enough to live next to a MTF or larger installation; we will find the Behavioral Health Clinic available on a walk-in basis. After a short wait and a questionnaire, you will be seen. The relationship clinic has been immensely helpful to us both. If you want to go off base, I believe that Tricare Prime will cover 6 outpatient mental health appointments for individual counseling (there are also circumstances where it will cover as many as you need). 

I know what you’re thinking: “But our relationship is fine; these guys are weird.” Probably so. However, we didn’t sign up for an easy life or marriage. We want it to be full of excitement and challenges; good and bad. No one promised me an easy go of it.

Please don’t wait too long to ask for help. The only shame should be ignoring the problems hoping they’ll go away. Haven’t we suffered enough losses? It’s time to go get that help.

Family is the firmament that shapes us.  Sometimes family molds us like clay on a potter’s wheel, fashions us in their careful hands, builds us up, and through happy tears or heartache, binds our hearts to them forever. We are thankful for those kinds of nurturing members of our family. They strengthen us and model for us how to be better partners to our spouses and better parents for our children. Unfortunately, not all families are careful crafters. Some are careless with our fragile hearts and have broken us time and time again; leaving us in shards on the floor, while we desperately try to find our missing pieces. Some are dangerous and some are toxic, and we must steer clear of those who would do us harm.

For many LGBT adults, there are many wounds left over from childhood about finally coming to terms with their own sexuality or identity and then coming out to their families. Coming out doesn’t happen in a day. It’s a long and arduous road with no roadmap and often lots of wrong turns. If the family holds to a strict religion that is intolerant of homosexuality, the risk of revealing oneself can be too great a burden to bear until well into adulthood. For many, that fear can carry on into a failed heterosexual marriage or multiple failed relationships.

It is by being open and truthful that we are finally on solid ground and can begin the work of building bridges of communication. It takes two to build, coming from different places, with common ground of love and respect to build upon.

If this conversation is forced before the other person is ready, you risk disappointment. It’s hard to build a bridge when the other person is busy burning it. We want our loved ones to love us, to be excited for us, and accept us for who we really are.

The painful reality is that there will be some people in our family that will never come around to acceptance, and prefer the shelter and safety of their monochromatic worldview about what is right and wrong.  It is devastating to be rejected, but we can decide how we choose to respond and live from here.

One practice that was particularly helpful to me recently, was to write a letter to the ones who “would not be moved” in my life. As opposed to many years of unfulfilling letters of bitterness and anger, and a couple of “mock funerals” to cast them out of my life forever… this was a love letter I really meant. This was from a place of loving, where my heart actually wanted to be. From this point, I felt release from the tethered bindings of regret and remorse I had fashioned.  I could be free from any outcome or reaction on their part, and live my life from my heart. I could also get on with my own life and enjoy the true family that had supported me all along:

Dear Pop,

 I hope that this letter finds you in better health and recovery from surgery and that all signs of cancer are behind you. I started doing mammograms last year and think of all the brave and beautiful women on your side who have won and lost battles with cancer.

I’m not going to launch into one of my angry letters. I’m trying to move beyond all that and realize that whatever choices and events that have occurred in the past are already said and done. I also realize that there is an ability to love someone you can’t possibly hope to understand.

I know you may not understand that being gay is the way I was born. I had no role models for this, knew no openly gay people growing up, and certainly never had it affirmed for me through any friends or acquaintances until after I was 17. I never saw it on TV or movies, unless the gay character was fatally flawed or made the butt of all the jokes until 1993.  Yet, I fell in love with my best friends from age 10 on. Oh, I never told them. I knew somehow intuitively that it wasn’t going to be reciprocated and there wasn’t any reason to make our friendship awkward. I needed friends.

 I didn’t tell my best friend until I was 28. She was my best friend since 7^th grade. And thankfully, she still is a dear friend! I was surprised that when I finally did come out to people in my family and friends group that I had more love and support than I ever expected to have.

Anyhoo…being liberal and agnostic is a choice. Deciding to eat pork or shellfish, getting divorced or married, are all choices.  Just like being straight, you didn’t wake up one day, write a list of pro’s and con’s and decide to love or desire the opposite sex. If you did, you are one for the medical records! I know I’m not going to change your minds about me. What I am giving you openly and truthfully is a view of who I really am; not a hidden version, not an obscured version, not a version that is seeking validation. Just me. I feel I owed you at least that introduction once.

When I called you this past month, it was in a very emotional state. All the hurt and anger seemed to go by the wayside when I realized you were in the hospital and you were facing a very serious situation.

It is comforting that you both have each other and seem happy. You have your own lives, group of friends, church connections, and support system.  “Family” isn’t always the one we were born into, but the special people we allow into our lives that support us along the way and build us up. I think you both have found that in each other and in those you have allowed into your lives, and we have found ours.

What I needed to do was let go of expectations around what we are supposed to be to each other and just be happy for you. And I am.  I hope you were sitting down when you read that line. J

As for me, I am the happiest I have ever been in my whole life.  I have finally found the love of my life and my best friend in Kim. The kids love and adore her and she loves them. I have parents who love and support me and siblings who are wonderful friends. I’m closer to my sisters than we have ever been before. It takes a lot of effort to build, since we have had so many absent years, but it’s worth it. It’s not pining over the past, but rather reveling in the recent. Life is too short to keep dragging out yesterday’s trail of bitter tears.

You don’t have to respond to any of this. You don’t owe me anything. Actually saying “I love you” at our last phone call (even if it was the morphine talking) says it all. I know you gave me the best you could and knew how. I wish you both good health, happiness, and a good life.

With Gratitude, Adaire

Unfortunately, discrimination is alive and well in the State of Tennessee. Since our home state of Tennessee does not recognize same-gender marriage, my fiancée and I traveled to Massachusetts where we were legally married on October 18, 2013.

After returning home to Tennessee and receiving our certified marriage license, we went about changing our name on our legal documents. We made a list by priority, so naturally our first identification update was our Social Security card. According to our federal government this is “the” official document by which all legal United States citizens are identified for life, for everything that makes up a life. You cannot obtain a passport or open a bank account without one. You cannot obtain a mortgage or any other loan or form of credit without one. When you buy a car, apply for insurance, or are admitted to the hospital, your “identifier” is required. It’s the first official identification you are assigned after birth before you even know you need one to exist as a legal citizen in this great country of ours. The same country my US Army veteran spouse served and agreed to lay her life down for.

So we went into the office together and the change was processed without a glitch. We received our new cards in the mail a short week later. We opened the envelopes in excitement—at last we felt validated and equal in the eyes of our government and we paused to soak it all in! When we met 22 years ago, we’d never thought this possible in our lifetime, but it was real—our Social Security card, our legal identifier—said so!  After that my spouse reported her marriage to her federal employer and her last name and marital status were immediately changed. I was listed as her legal spouse and my children as her legal stepchildren.

Next on the list to update was my driver’s license, and coincidently I received a renewal notice in the mail a few weeks after my marriage—“great timing!” I thought. On the back of the renewal form was a notice stating applicants MUST have a social security number existing in the database and the name must match. Knowing my name was already updated on my Social Security card, I assumed I was good to go.

I walked into my local DMV and presented my renewal notice. I announced to the clerk that I also had a name change and had already changed it on my Social Security card, which I presented. She stated they did not accept a Social Security card as proof of name change, so I handed her my certified marriage certificate. She processed my renewal and name change. She handed me a temporary printout with my new name to use in the interim. About a week later I received my new license in the mail. Again, an overwhelming feeling of validation!

About a week later my spouse walked into that same DMV office. She presented her Social Security card and certified marriage certificate. After the clerk perused the marriage certificate she asked my spouse outright if this was a same-sex marriage. My spouse said it was. The clerk told her she was sorry, but the State of Tennessee did not recognize our marriage and she would not be able to process her name change. She was denied. The clerk offered the suggestion of visiting the county court house to petition for a name change, which would cost about $175.

My spouse informed the clerk that she didn’t understand. Wondered how I had no problem changing mine. The clerk then copied the marriage certificate and attempted to look up my information, but could not locate it. The clerk then went to talk to a supervisor and returned to ask if I was with her. My spouse said no. The supervisor walked up and told my spouse my license would be revoked and I would have to come in and forfeit it because I was now in possession of an “illegally issued identification”—an identification they processed and issued.

Based on the legality of that statement my spouse asked if I would receive an official notice by letter informing me of the revocation beforehand. The clerk said no, but if I didn’t voluntarily return it a State Trooper would be sent to our home to retrieve it. My spouse did not know if this was simply a threat or if something was put into the system flagging my license as “illegally issued”.

My spouse called me on the way home to deliver the bad news. I was beside myself—how could this happen? A precedent was set when mine was approved–why was it different for her? I don’t understand how a state governed by the federal government can deny a legal name change regardless of “why” it was changed. I was perplexed how a request by the state to revoke my license could be made to just “pass along” from one person to another—a person the state did not recognize as my spouse. What about my right to due process? How is this legal?

And just like that, all that joy of validation was swept out from under us. We were immediately sent back to that place where once again we felt like second class citizens. My spouse was good enough to potentially die for every person in Tennessee, but in the eyes of Tennessee she is not equal to those same citizens she vowed to protect. This inequality needs to change and we are willing to stand up to help make that happen. All Americans should be afforded the same rights, especially those veteran and active duty military who have, and continue to fight to defend those very rights.

The tree is up, complete with all the lights and ornaments. Our little village of porcelain houses sits atop the table on a soft bed of “snow.” (Most) of the gifts have been purchased and will soon be piled under the tree. Our stockings hang awaiting the gifts and joy of Christmas morning. Our holiday plans with family have been made.

We do this every year: decorate, anticipate, and celebrate.

Each year has brought its unique gifts during the holidays. Last year my wife, Susan, had just returned from her deployment – we were basically inseparable. The year before was our first Christmas as a married couple. The year prior, we were newly engaged (on Christmas Eve). We have been through our share of celebration and joy during the holidays.

But this year will be different.

Susan’s mother died three months ago. So, this year we will have one fewer stocking hung awaiting gifts, and there will be an empty seat at the Christmas dinner table. It’s an adjustment, to say the least. It’s like there is this big hole in our hearts, and even though we are both grateful for all we have, and all we have to celebrate, the hole is still there.

I felt a similar sense when Susan was deployed. It’s like standing still while the rest of the world is coming and going from place to place, as if nothing has changed – as if things are normal. But they aren’t normal! Don’t they know that the person I love most is halfway across the world?! Don’t they know that things are not the same as they used to be? Don’t they know that this world will never, ever, be the same? And the reality is that most of us know this feeling – of being sad, or lonely, or broke, or away from home – during the holidays. It’s not that we want to be “Scrooges,” but it just so happens that life goes on regardless of whether it is Christmas-time or any other time of the year. The holidays can be times of great celebration and joy. They can also be incredibly stressful.

As military families we know this all too well. We are dealing with deployments, PCS-ing, relocating, grieving a loss, and worrying about the safety of our servicemember. This is a lot to balance and handle, all while trying to hold a space that allows for some sense of wonder and celebration. Sometimes all of this balancing can feel extremely isolating. We can start to feel like no one else cares, and like no one else remembers that we are broken, bruised, sad, and missing “home.” We can feel like everyone else is gleefully celebrating, ignorant of the reality of their good fortune. I often wonder – perhaps they aren’t. Perhaps they too are feeling broken and lost, and sad.

Every year I listen to Christmas music – it’s one of my favorites parts of this season. A few years back, Josh Groban came out with an album with the song “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” as one of the tracks. In between the verses he has recorded messages from servicemembers to their families. Needless to say, it’s made me cry like a baby for years. Those tears took on a different nature when I started dating Susan, and became a military partner and eventually wife. They’ve taken on a different nature since losing my mother-in-law. Because the song is about connection across the miles and the message of love that withstands that distance and challenge.

One of the things I am keenly aware of during this season is the stars. It was a star that guided the wisemen to the sleeping babe in the mystical story of Jesus’ birth. It is the stars that light our nights in anticipation of the returning of the light on the Solstice. It is the stars to which I looked, feeling lonely and scared, when Susan was deployed. I knew that, even if it was over eight hours before she would see them, they were the same stars in the sky.

Stars are able to pierce through the darkness – they bring that light through the distance, and struggle, and challenge. And they are always there. We can’t always see them, but they are.

And just as the stars do, we can reach out – over the distance, time, and difficulty. We can reach out with our hearts and hopes open toward one another and toward the potential for connection. I can assure you, there is someone else who is feeling broken and lonely too – but you won’t know until you reach out. We can hold each other up, and brighten one another’s experience of these challenging and beautiful times. Through community we offer a different way to get through a difficult time – with patience, understanding, and love.

I wish each of you a winter season filled with those moments of connection that break through distance, time, challenge, hardship, misunderstanding, and worry. May each of us, even amidst times of sadness, find times of light and joy.

Although I am published author with 20 academic publications to my name, writing about my life as the wife of an Army veteran in a post-DADT, post-DOMA era is different from anything I’ve ever written before. Where do I start? How much do I reveal? I’ve been told to tell my story and I am not constrained by page limits or word counts; I feel as if I could write forever.

I met Kaye on June 29, 1994, and immediately knew she was “the one.” She was a captain in the Army and visiting friends in the Kansas City, MO, area where I was living at the time. When I walked into the room and scanned it, I noticed an attractive woman wearing Birkenstocks, the only one in the room besides me wearing this unique brand of footwear. I was immediately drawn to her. Over the course of the next few hours, we continued talking and when I left her that night, I knew my life had changed forever. What I didn’t know is when or where I would see her again as she would soon return to her assignment at the Naval Postgraduate School in Monterrey, CA, where she was pursuing her Masters of Operations Analysis degree. I also didn’t know what falling for an Army officer would mean and the very significant way in which my would life would soon change.

I grew up in the very liberal corner of northwest Arkansas where my father was a college professor, and he and most of his friends were liberal, anti-war, anti-military, anti-gun Democrats. My knowledge of the military was limited to the tv shows of my era: MASH and Major Dad. When I met Kaye, my only thought was that if she was in the Army, she was probably very rigid and inflexible. Thankfully, nothing was further from the truth. I was also naïve about the ban against gays in the military and believed that Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (DADT) would address many of the problems. I was from Arkansas and like many from my state, believed the promises made by our native son, President Clinton. In retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t fully comprehend the many challenges I would experience by falling for this sexy Army officer.

Over the course of the next two months, Kaye and I corresponded by phone and snail mail. It was the summer of 1994 and the internet was in its infancy. In August, she mailed me a modem for my computer and after I got over my fear of opening the computer case, she talked me through installing it. We suddenly had email (via a very slow dial up connection). Our communication, previously dependent on landlines with $400/month long distance bills and snail mail, increased and with it, so did our interest in each other. In September 1994, she was able to arrange a transfer to Ft. Leavenworth, KS, to attend the Combined Arms Service and Support School (CAS3) and our relationship blossomed. In planning her follow on assignment, she agreed to turn down a very prestigious joint assignment OCONUS and to accept a much less attractive stateside assignment if I would join her once I found a job in my field. In January 1995, she was transferred to Ft. Lee, VA, and in April 1995, I joined her at our new home in Richmond, VA.

Fast forward more than 19 years since that fateful day in June 1994. We have lived together in Richmond, VA (near Ft. Lee); Georgetown, TX (near Ft. Hood); Lawrence, KS (near Ft. Leavenworth); and following her retirement, in Little Rock, AR. She also spent a year unaccompanied in Carlisle, PA, at the Army War College. An injury prevented her from being deployed so she was never sent OCONUS during our time together while she was active duty. We were together 15 years, all under DADT, before she retired on July 31, 2009, the best birthday present I have ever received. During this time, she finished her master’s degree (I had obtained mine the year before we met) and we both obtained PhDs in our respective fields at the University of Texas at Austin (Hook ‘em, horns!). I’m very proud of what we were able to accomplish despite the stress of living under DADT. We managed to balance my gay and lesbian activism and belief in giving a voice to those who have been silenced by oppression with her need to remain in the closet, lest she be subjected to the penalties imposed under the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UMCJ). (I have degrees in social work and my primary area of research and teaching is culturally competent practice with gay and lesbian clients; google me and you’ll find some things I’ve written.) In retrospect, I often wonder how we did it and the best answer I can give is that we have tremendous love and respect for each other and have tried throughout our 19+ years together to support each other in whatever we do.

On July 31, 2009, the day Kaye’s retirement was official, I realized I’d been holding my breath for 15 years, that I had lived in constant fear that I would do something that would lead to her being charged with a UMCJ violation. I feared my love for her, combined with my research and activism on gay and lesbian issues (but never on gays and lesbians in the military as it was too risky), would lead to her loosing the thing she loved slightly less than me: her career. When she retired, I could finally let my breath out. Well, almost. DADT was still in effect and although rare, it was still legally possible for Kaye to be recalled until the age of 65 and discharged under DADT. I breathed deeper but still held my breath a little.

Our lives went on. I had moved to Little Rock, AR, in August 2008 to begin a new faculty position and she joined me in the summer of 2009. We began to discuss what we wanted our post-military life to look like. In January 2010, she began teaching at a nearby university with the expectation that we would both have the summers off. Our lives continued in that quiet and routine way that it had for many years prior except that we no longer lived in fear under DADT and she no longer worked 16 hours days and drove an hour each way to work.

On September 20, 2011, I and other board members for the Center for Artistic Revolution (a statewide gay rights organization that I’m on the board of) were interviewed by a local TV station about the repeal of DADT. As I drove out of my neighborhood at 4:30 am that morning, I realized I could finally stop holding my breath. I realized I could finally stop living in fear that Kaye would be recalled and discharged. I realized that after 17 years with Kaye, I could breathe, finally breathe. At that moment, on a dark and foggy morning, I felt both elated with joy and deflated, as if the air had been sucked out of me. I wanted to pull over by the side of road and cry. Seventeen years of loving Kaye and holding my breath and I could finally love without fear and breathe deeply.

Fast forward another 19 months to March 2013. Oral arguments are heard in United States v Windsor. Liberal commentary following the arguments suggests Justice Kennedy will be the swing vote and that it will be a 5-4 decision in favor of overturning DOMA. Life goes on. June arrives and the LGBT community is getting anxious. When will the Supreme Court rule on Windsor? In early June, Kaye and I have an unexpected conversation about getting married if DOMA is repealed. We are scheduled to drive to the east coast to meet my family for a week long vacation on June 30. Could we leave early and be on the east coast when the DOMA decision is announced? It is the first serious conversation we’ve had about getting married. DADT precluded it and doing so seemed meaningless unless we could get benefits from doing so. Although we live in a non-recognition state, we know we can get military benefits and some federal benefits if DOMA is repealed. Twenty-four hours later we have a plan: if DOMA is repealed, we will get married on the beach in Maryland at sunrise on June 29, 2013, our 19^th anniversary.

When we woke up the morning of June 26, 2013, at a bed and breakfast in Rehoboth Beach, DE, we were filled with anticipation. All indications were that DOMA would be overturned today. After breakfast, we pulled up SCOTUSBlog on our iPads and began the wait. At 10:02 am the life changing news came: DOMA had been repealed! We spent the next 90 minutes reading the commentary on SCOTUSBlog and other websites and then left to drive to Maryland to obtain our marriage license. Even as I type this, it seems surreal that I was able to get a marriage license, let alone get married. When we pulled up to the courthouse, I was nervous. I had waited almost 19 years for this moment and it was finally here. What would the people at the courthouse be like? How would they treat us? Would we get some homophobe when we applied for the license? Either way, our long waited and much anticipated moment was here. I will be forever grateful at how friendly the staff at the Worcester County, MD, courthouse was.

Three days later, on the first sunrise after the mandatory waiting period after DOMA was repealed, as the sun rose and a light rain fell, we were married on the beach in Maryland. We wrote the ceremony ourselves and the minister tweaked it. It still seems surreal. I look at the pictures of us on that day and I still can’t believe it’s me on my wedding day to Kaye. I never thought I’d be able to get married in my life time and that the feds would recognize it. OMG! I am married!

Following a week with my family, we return home and have a small party to celebrate our news. Life goes on. President Obama says he will give active duty and vets as many benefits as he can under the law. Life goes on and we wait. Groups like the AMPA and others push the feds to move as quickly as they can to change the necessary systems and software programs so gay and lesbian couples can access benefits. People grow impatient with what they deem to be the slow pace of change. Some argue that the feds must have known DOMA was going to be repealed: why didn’t they have a plan in place to expedite the benefits process? I remain calm and quiet. I waited 19 years for this; a few more months doesn’t faze me and life goes on.

Finally, we have a date: Tuesday, September 3, 2013. This is the first day gay and lesbian couples who are married can apply for the DEERS, get an ID card, and thus gain access to the benefits associated with it. Kaye and I both teach on Tuesday mornings so being the first in line is not an option. We discuss going later in the week when our schedules are saner and the lines may not be as long. As the date approaches, I realize I have spent 19 years being denied these benefits and that I don’t want to wait a day longer for them. We agree to meet at Little Rock Air Force Base at 2 pm on September 3, 2013. It is the first time in many years I’ve been on a base and one of less than ten times I’ve ever been on any base. As I drive to the base, I am again struck by the power of this moment. Two years ago, I was still holding my breath; now I’m about to be officially recognized as Kaye’s wife.

When we arrive and check in, the staff at the base is ready for couples like us. They have a checklist with the required documents and want to make sure we have all of them as they don’t want us to wait only to be told to come back because we don’t have what we need. We do. How many times had I checked the list I found online via the AMPA Facebook page and double checked to make sure I had everything with me? The young sergeant who helps us out is very nice and informs us that we are only the second same-sex couple they have processed that day. Less than an hour after arriving, I have my military dependent ID card in hand. We ask the sergeant to take a picture of us with the Finally Recognized poster we printed from the AMPA site and he is willing to do it. As I follow Kaye out to our cars and we drive off the base, I am overwhelmed and in shock. Two years ago, I was still holding my breath; four years ago, Kaye was still active duty and we lived in fear. Now I am in the system and I have a dependent ID card. I’m not sure exactly what this will give me access to but I’m looking forward to learning and benefiting from it.

Fast forward another two and a half months later to November 2013 and I’m asked by the AMPA to write about being a veteran’s wife in this post-DADT, post-DOMA era. For all the context I’ve given you, it still seems surreal that I have these benefits. At the same time, my life goes on and little has changed. One of the most significant changes I experienced was a profound sense of grief following both the repeal of DADT and DOMA. I couldn’t grieve what I didn’t know I couldn’t get. For 15 years, I chose ignorance about the benefits I was being denied. It wasn’t bliss but it was easier than the grief and the anger that I felt at a system I was powerless to change. For me, one of the most painful things about living under DADT was that I chose to live my life in a way that was contradictory to the very nature of who I am and what I teach. As a social worker and social work professor, I fight for the oppressed, for those who are silenced. However, DADT forced me into silence because of who I chose to love and share my life with. When DADT and DOMA were repealed, I realized how muzzled I had been and found myself grieving in ways I had not previously grieved. It has been a healthy process, as if I am purging toxins from my body, but also a surprising one as well.

Beyond this, how has my life changed? It continues to be hard to describe. I have two forms of ID that the TSA will recognize. Shortly after getting my military dependent ID, I used it to get through the security line at the airport. Why? Because I could and doing so was kind of cool. In November, we made the decision to add me to Kaye’s health insurance (TRICARE Plus) and, combined with my employer sponsored insurance, I have now have two different kinds of insurance, both of which are very good. I know I am unique in this regard and feel for those who struggle to pay their medical bills. A year from now, I may consider dropping my employer sponsored insurance but for now, I’ve chosen to keep it. Since she has as 90% disability rating, Kaye filed for and was approved for dependent pay since she is now legally married. Once it was approved, her disability compensation increased slightly. These economic benefits are great but they still seem surreal to me. Other things have not changed. Because we live an hour from Little Rock Air Force Base, I have not been there since we got my ID card and I’ve never been to a post exchange. However, I now have the freedom to access many things I didn’t know I was denied. Will I access them? Who knows? However, it’s nice to have the option after being denied it for 19 years.

As I reflect more, beyond the access to different benefits, the most significant change has been a mental one. Although DADT and DOMA deprived me of an identity as a “military wife,” I increasingly identify as a “vet’s wife.” I talk openly with my students and others about my experiences living with and loving Kaye under DADT. I am also increasingly aware of the issues that active duty, veterans, and family members face and I’ve become a strong advocate for students who are active duty and vets and for the family members who care about them. While many universities have “student veteran organizations”, in August 2013, I helped create Students Affected by the Military (SAM), a student organization for both those in the military and those who care about them. I can now be open about my experiences and am better able to support others with similar experiences. I recently presented at a national conference on the effects of the DOMA repeal and spoke about the benefits I now receive as a vet’s wife. I also inquire about the needs of LGBT military and their families during discussions about social work and the military and urge people to address this issue. I am no longer silenced and can be the open and out advocate that I was prohibited from being for so many years. How has life changed after the repeal of DADT and DOMA? Most significantly, I breathe and I breathe deeply. Life goes on. I am no longer muzzled. I advocate, I educate, and I breathe but I do all more openly and deeply.

Catherine Crisp is a social work professor at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock where she teaches classes on diversity and community organizing. When she is not busy advocating on behalf of social justice issues and educating students and others about privilege and oppression, she and her wife Kaye enjoy doing yoga, playing tennis, kayaking, walking with their dogs, and traveling.