I was young, and immature when I joined. I came to the service looking for discipline, self respect, education (not necessarily book smarts), experience, opportunity... In 2002, I matured tremendously when I became a single mother to my Stevie Lynn. I gave up a life of partying for an environment surrounded by crayons and Barbie dolls.
In 2005, I deployed for a second time in support of Operation Enduring Freedom. It was during this deployment that I connected with a group of Filipinos, in Diego Garcia. I was able to experience a different culture, in a different part of the world. I lived in Paradise! It was also the first time I was separated from my daughter, and I really felt the weight of my decision to serve - it truly is a personal sacrifice. The call of duty took me away from Stevie, away from the US, and put me in a place so far away for so long.
In 2008, I met a handful of Turkish airmen while on assignment in Konya. I was given the opportunity to teach English to both Turkish soldiers AND children. I was welcomed into the homes of the locals, invited to drink tea, and had my dinners paid for. I shared laughter and tears with people that I became so emotionally connected to in a matter of 2.5 weeks. I still keep in touch with them.
I traveled to Israel. I walked some of the paths of Jesus. I prayed with our Catholic chaplain on the mount near the Sea of Galilee under a full moon. I laughed as friends floated freely in the Dead Sea. I placed my forehead against the cold stone of the West Wall, and I wept as I gave myself to God. I ate at McDonald's, and the Elvis cafe - and I fed stray cats and I curled up in a lonely bottom bunk at the end of every night.
I spent a month in Las Vegas, living in a casino hotel on the strip. I spent more time on my laptop, talking to my husband and children than I did out with my friends. I splurged and took a helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon and I lost myself in the desert colors and silence. I tried to console a crying baby in a crowded social security office as I watched a young mother struggle to calm her.
I spent 4.5 months in Iraq in 2009. I ran across a box of Beanie Babies that had been mailed, and came up with the idea to carry on the project and ask for donations of toys or school supplies to distribute to children in Iraq. I hand delivered toys to children who were injured in the war. I looked into the eyes of a little girl whose innocence was destroyed when her hands were blown off. I heard the despair in the frail cry of a 2 year old boy who was in a full body cast after being thrown from a moving vehicle. I stared helplessly at a suicidal Iraq special forces soldier who was gravely injured when his gun fired into his abdomen while he was cleaning it. I was overcome, when an Iraqi grandfather hugged me, thanked me, and prayed God be with me. I thirsted for rain, and I was homesick for green grass and trees. I drove the flightline in our rented truck, desert sand all over the windshield at sunset... I was buried in sand storms for days at a time. There were nights when sirens would go off and I would fall out of my bed and roll underneath, praying that the incoming mortar wouldn't come through my roof - my children weren't grown yet.
I've been in the delivery room after one of my troops delivered her baby - 24 weeks early. I've embraced heartache and despair, and witnessed what would have been the miracle of life, if only...
I've written medals, and EPRs, and congratulated promotees, and cried with retirees, and celebrated with new parents. I've photographed families, and waved goodbye as good friends have moved on. I was part of a Stinger family... an era in the Air Force that I will carry with me, FOREVER.
However, I have reached a time in my career where doing my best is no longer good enough. This "new" Air Force has become an organization that demands far too much, for far too little recognition - and I, personally, will not sacrifice any longer. I'm a wife, and I'm a mother to three children... and I cannot continue to work for leadership who cannot see the things that I give up, and more importantly, the things that I accomplish! Enlisted members are rated on a scale of 1-5, and I have been a 4 or 5 for the last 11 years of my career. I am leaving the military with a rating of 2, and the only thing on my record is fitness failure. I'm only sorry that my hard work doesn't matter. I've already cleaned out my desk, and have been transferred to another office. My existence and "need" are no longer valuable to the 480th Fighter Squadron. I'm faceless now, just a "file." I've been formally served a recommendation for honorable discharge and will begin outprocessing tomorrow.
I will cherish every remaining sunrise and sunset that I have left here in Europe - for they are among the most beautiful that I've ever seen. However, I'm elated to be leaving the prison that my job has become - headed toward freedom, and home.
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