The Woman In Front Of Me

The Village That Changed

I’ve always had a village being a MilSpouse.

A best friend at every duty station.

Someone to help me with the kids.

Someone to help me through the emotional roller coaster of deployments and life.

When my children were babies, I had friends who would come over and relieve the stress of caring for them.

Sometimes they held a baby so I could shower. Sometimes they just sat with me so I didn’t feel so alone.

We had playdates just to get out of the house—coffee in hand, kids in swings or strollers, conversations filling the quiet.

As they grew older, I met women with kids at similar stages. We would meet up to go shopping while our kids sat in the carts together, or we’d make up games in the store—

I Spy, scavenger hunts, silly distractions just to get through the aisles.

It wasn’t about shopping.

It was about being together.

But when my children hit the teenage years… that all changed.

Life got heavier. Schedules got fuller.

I try to make adult playdates, but everyone is busy—with work, with kids, with exhaustion. Even scheduling coffee once a week feels like a chore. Dinner dates are planned… and canceled so easily.

My husband has always said, “It’s lonely at the top.”

What I think he really meant is… it’s lonely when the kids get older.

When friendships require calendars instead of come over moments.

When you realize you’re still carrying as much, but the tribe you once easily found isn't as easy to find anymore.

Have you felt the village change as your kids got older?

© The Woman In Front Of Me

Just Listen To That Voice

We all have that voice that tells us to get up and do what we are supposed to do. But I don’t want to listen to it today!

I’m tired!
I’ve worked three - 13 hour shifts where two of the days I trained our new nurse interns for the admin side of the job. They are all wonderful but it takes a little more thought than an average day.

I tried to nap which was interrupted by a teen in distress. Frustrated at first because I know if I have that heaviness out of my head I can focus better. Complete my tasks, do my homework, just how I had planned when I woke up!

But it didn’t happen.

There was a suggestion that we go to Target which I really didn’t want to do, however, it would do us both some good. Grab what I need, get our blood flowing and then come home refocused.

The refocus didn’t happen.

So now I am sitting in my chair, ignoring the voice in my head telling me to get up and do the dishes. I don’t want to! I am being disobedient!

But I know if I stand up, go to the sink, and start doing them, maybe use my friend’s 5 minute rule, things will start to be completed, and it will force momentum. Momentum then gives me the refocus, and pride that I completed something. That feel good feeling!

So I guess I will finish my episode, get up and start the dishes, run the dishwasher, wash the extras in 5 minute spurts. My friend said the other day “We can do anything for 5 minutes!”
Let’s see if she is right! I absolutely know she is. Maybe I will make it 10 minutes instead completing more.

If you have read my blogs, you may have read the one about the 15 minute spurts. It’s the same thought process. However, I am tired, and don’t want to move! I just want to sleep!

The Woman in Front of Me

As a MilSpouse, I’ve learned to live on the edge of not knowing.

I guess life is funny like that anyway—we never really know what’s coming. But as a MilSpouse, we learn to expect the unexpected.

When times get tough, we dig deep. We meet a version of ourselves most people never have to meet. We’d love to depend on our spouses 100% of the time, but the reality is… sometimes we can’t depend on them at all.

I joke with my husband that the military is his wife, and I’m his mistress.

It’s true. Even before me—before his children—the call of the Navy comes first.

We also joke when we buy things, teasing about who gets what “in the divorce.” We were joking like that long before we were ever married. Humor is how we survive.

The truth is, this life isn’t for everyone. It takes a special kind of couple—two people who can come together, be pulled apart, and understand that it isn’t anyone’s fault.

There are lonely seasons. There are moments when I’ve wanted to do something wild just to be seen… or held. I don’t hide that part, because it’s real. It's the truth but I know that when he comes home, the reunions are always strong felt and amazing!

Then there are the moves. Leaving one village behind and trying to create a new one.

The people we leave understand the ache, because they’ve lived it too—both being left behind and doing the leaving. Outsiders may look in and say this life is diabolically crazy, but the truth is… you can only understand it if you’ve lived it.

© The Woman In Front Of Me

Teaching, Learning, Putting into Practice

About two and a half years ago, I attended a Back to Work Bootcamp that helped me reenter the workforce after 16 years of not working.

One of my favorite parts of that class focused on the effectiveness of verbal and nonverbal communication—how we speak, how we listen, how we read people, and how much is said without words.

Now, as I continue working toward my Medical Assistant certification, those same topics are showing up again in my coursework. An entire chapter dedicated to being an effective listener, communicating with patients, reading situations, and knowing how to respond appropriately in each moment.

What amazes me most is realizing that I’m already putting many of these skills into practice on the job. As each topic is covered, I can pull up real-life examples from my day-to-day work. At the same time, I find myself reflecting on moments where I could improve—tweaking this, adjusting that, growing just a little more.

It’s interesting how this one thread keeps weaving itself through every part of my life. That consistency makes me feel confident that I’m on the right path—exactly where I’m supposed to be.

My capstone project for this class is centered on communication, which feels fitting. I’ll be able to share how these skills aren’t just theory for me—they’re already being used in real, meaningful ways.

As I move through this journey, I also feel a deeper connection to God’s most basic rule: Loving one another. Communication, after all, is often where that love begins.

© The Woman In Front Of Me

Putting My Hard Time Task List In Play

I’ve written a lot of blogs about getting through hard moments. Piece by piece. Topic by topic. Advice I give freely because I believe in it.

And now… this is the moment where I have to take my own advice and put it all together.

I shared a little of what’s been happening, and I’m going to leave it at that. What matters is how it felt. I felt stuck. Stuck without sleep. Stuck inside my emotions. Stuck in one place, like the world had pressed pause while everything inside me kept racing forward.

Last night, I finally took the first steps toward being unstuck.

Sleep hasn’t come easy since all of this started. Every time I tried to rest, the phone would ring. Another call. Another interruption. My thoughts turned into a firestorm, and eventually it all spilled out as tears.

So last night, I made a hard choice. I went to bed early, cutting my alone time with my son short. I hated doing it. I really did. But I can’t pour from an empty cup, and he understood that.

I slept for ten hours.

This morning, I woke up and the heaviness was still there. But instead of sitting in it, I moved anyway. I got up and woke my kid for school. One small step.

After drop-off, I turned the radio on to Jelly Roll and headed to Dunkin’ for the $5 meal deal. Not the best meal, but it’s small and it’s food. I skip the hash browns. Progress, not perfection.

The music kept playing—other country songs mixed in—and I sang along, windows down, volume up, all the way home.

Once there, I decided to shower while the music was still going. Upbeat songs to lift my spirit. Hot water for relaxation. I used my Farmasi Rose Face Wash, followed by Soapbox Tea Tree shampoo, my super-soft conditioner, and Farmasi Royal Cherry body wash. All my favorites. Familiar. Comforting. I took my time—no rushing, no guilt—just letting the moment be what it was.

When I got dressed, I reached for the clothes that feel like me, right down to the undergarments. I slowed down and took care of my skin with my Farmasi Rose facial lotion, the perfect match to the face wash. Small routines that remind me I still exist outside of the chaos.

I’ve talked before about the 24-hour rule. About letting the emotions come, but not letting them move in permanently. Well… we’re just past that mark now. I guess God decided it was time and said, “Alright. Let’s go.”

Because that’s really all it takes. One movement. One foot in front of the other. One task at a time.

Now my computer is on. Schoolwork is open. I’m behind—but I’m here. I’m moving. And I’m not doing it alone. My God given beautiful black cat, Platinum, is right by my side as I work through it all.

© The Woman In Front Of Me

They Pushed my Hand

A bag half-packed.

Hands shaking just enough to notice, but not enough to stop.

This wasn’t denial—this was action. The kind that kicks in when someone you love says they aren’t okay. No arguing. No minimizing. Just get up and go.

Then the knock came before the pants were on.

Suddenly the moment wasn’t contained anymore. Voices filled the room. Radios crackled. Authority stood in the doorway asking questions that felt both necessary and intrusive. It all happened fast—too fast to explain that you were already handling it, already on your way, already trying.

Somewhere in the chaos, laughter escaped. Not because it was funny—but because the nervous system needed air. Even the cat seemed unfazed, weaving between unfamiliar legs like this was just another ordinary interruption.

By the time the hospital doors slid open, the energy had shifted.

The crisis had softened. Phones were out. Smiles appeared. Jokes landed easily. The urgency that had filled the house minutes earlier didn’t make the trip.

And that’s when the confusion set in.

Because you knew pain existed. You weren’t blind to it. You knew the history, the weight of it, the way trauma lingers even when someone looks fine. You believed that part completely.

But watching the seriousness dissolve made something ache.

Help was offered. Real help. The kind meant to guide, not judge. And it was brushed aside—every suggestion met with resistance, every path forward declined. Not now. Not that. Not ready.

You understood pain. You carried plenty of your own. You’d learned that healing doesn’t come from avoiding discomfort—it comes from walking straight through it.

Sitting there, you realized the hardest truth isn’t recognizing suffering.

It’s knowing when to stop rescuing.

Because love doesn’t mean responding to every emotional spike like an emergency. And compassion doesn’t mean removing responsibility. At some point, the line has to exist—not to punish, but to protect.

Not just them.

But you, too.

© The Woman In Front Of Me

January 13, 2018

Imagine it being 8:07 in the morning and your phone going off with an alert—

You look down and see a missile warning alert! That there was a missile heading for our island!

The kids had friends staying over, so the first thing I did was tell my kids to get into the stairwell hallway and wait for me.

One by one, I walked each friend home.

People were racing down our street, stopping to ask if I had seen the message too. One couple even asked what they were supposed to do.

I realized in that moment… we were never taught missile drills in school. Not that it would matter.

I told everyone to go home and call their loved ones. There wasn’t much else we could do.

What I remember most is how strangely calm I felt. There was no panic—just an acceptance that this was completely out of my control.

When I got back home, my husband was on the phone with people from work. I sat with the kids in the stairwell hallway, talking to them, telling them how much I loved them, just having a conversation—as normal as possible.

I remember feeling a little frustrated with my husband.

This could be our last moment together, and he was on the phone with work.

Then an alert came again.

It was a mistake.

There was no missile.

A breath of relief escaped me.

The tension lifted, and I let the kids go back to doing whatever they wanted to do—like nothing had almost changed everything.

Ever have a near life changing event happen?

© The Woman In Front Of Me

I’ve carried certain memories for a long time.
Even with the steady love of my husband in my life, some of those old moments still rise up.

This page exists to let things go.
To let words do some of the healing.
To breathe.
To soften.
To release what no longer needs to be carried.

If my healing helps someone else feel seen or less alone in theirs, then this space is doing what it’s meant to do.

I’m not a medical professional.
Just someone learning to heal with love — one layer at a time. 💛

The shared memories shared this month, I am releasing them! It’s time to move on!

© The Woman In Front Of Me

I’m THAT Mom

You know the one you pull up next to who isn’t parked quite right in the Target parking lot.

When you pull up, you see a woman with her hair a mess, an iced coffee in one hand — even though it’s freezing outside — and a donut in the other, trying to lick the cream before it drops on her shirt.

The complete Iced Coffee Mess Express.

I’m also the mom who sits in the parking lot for a minute because it feels calm. Healing, even.
In a few moments, I’ll be inside shopping for deodorant, body wash, and everything the kids and my husband need.

I’m the lady in the aisle comparing ingredients, prices, and which one is “best”…
even though I did this exact same thing last week.

And I’m also that mom in line who suddenly can’t find her wallet or anything she needs — whether my purse is small or big.
That darn coupon or gift card…
and when I finally find it, it’s stuck in my wallet like it’s glued in there.

I’m the mom who needs grace.
And when I see other moms just like me, I do my best to give them grace too.

I say try…
because I still silently cuss at blocked aisles.
Yep. I’m that mom too.

© The Woman In Front Of Me

The Perfect Wedding Dress

My best friend and I walked into David’s Bridal. I had scheduled a dress try on. We hadn’t set a date yet, but I was already looking at dresses, it was my fantasy to have a beautiful dress for my wedding. This was going to be the day I found it!

The two friends who had met when they were 11, were on a mission. One that would not be complete.

We went through isles of dresses. I like this one, this one was too expensive but I like it… the lady who was helping us grabbed them as we chose them.

Once we found our selections, I went into the dressing room. Stepped on the platform, tried on my first dress. I stepped out and there she was looking at me with panic in her eyes.

She was having a panic attack! She said she needed to go! I didn’t understand at that point, but we never went dress shopping again! Looking back, it was a sign that my relationship was going to fail. And it did!

Sometimes you need to listen to the reactions of the ones that know us best! I love her for her courage to stand up to me, for me, and with me!

Happy Valentine’s Day!
For me, today is not only the love for my husband, but my love for all!
Especially, the one who gave me life!

🕯 From Silence to Strength: A Survivor’s Call to Be Seen, Heard & Helped

✨ For the One Still Holding Her Breath

If you’re reading this and you’ve been through it too—whether you’ve spoken it aloud or only whispered it in your mind—I want you to hear me:

You are not broken.

You are not too late to heal.

Your story didn’t end when someone hurt you.

We are not just survivors…

We are proof that silence can rise into strength.

© The Woman In Front Of Us