When my husband received orders for recruiting duty, no one congratulated us. They apologized instead, and issued warnings.
“Prepare for the worst.”
“Hours are so long and you will never see him.”
“I would rather him be deployed than recruiting.”
“Recruiting ruins marriages.”
“Just survive the next three years.”
Before we ever arrived, we were cautioned about long hours, strained marriages, burnout and the challenges that supposedly awaited us. It seemed everyone had a horror story to share.
Packing away expectations
In 2022, when he left for Basic Recruiter Course (BRC) on July 4th — Independence Day — I felt anything other than freedom. Everyone’s warnings echoed in my mind.
Then came one unexpected blessing: our assignment was to RSS Altamonte Springs, Florida, just over an hour from our hometown. When the movers packed our Hawai’i home into boxes, I packed my expectations away as well. I was determined that someone else’s experiences would not write our story on this duty before we had the chance to live it.
When we arrived in Florida that fall, the challenges began almost immediately. As movers unpacked our household goods, we discovered that Hurricane Ian had flooded the storage facility where our crates were kept. Mold had ruined furniture, clothes, uniforms and countless keepsakes. The claims process felt endless. Days later, my husband left for South Carolina for two weeks of training while we found our new normal.
In the middle of this chaos, I remember thinking, “maybe everyone was right.”
Treasuring the ordinary
When my husband came home after training, he began working at the recruiting station in Altamonte Springs. The hours were long. Saturdays disappeared, Sundays were not guaranteed, and mission pressure was constant. Many nights he came home from a 14-hour day, completely exhausted.
Then the holidays came, and my fears about recruiting began to fade. For the first time in years, military life was not telling us what we had to miss — it was showing us what we had been given.
Every Christmas prior, it was either duty, distance or deployment that stood in the way of having a big family holiday. Christmas 2022 changed everything as we finally celebrated together — not over a video call, but around the same table.
After that holiday season, we became intentional with the time we had. Sometimes that meant lunch (and dinner) at his office, ice cream across the street, or turning overnight training into staycations as a couple or a family. None of this changed the very real demands of recruiting duty, but they changed how we lived through them and showed up for each other.
I began to realize that recruiting was not living up to the fears we were fed, and it was quickly becoming a season that taught us to treasure the ordinary. Our time was limited, but it became more meaningful because we were intentional. Our marriage grew stronger as we looked for ways to love each other on purpose. As our marriage grew stronger, so did our family.
Looking back, I understand why so many people warned us. Not everyone can move close to home, some do not have a good family support system, and while the demands are standard to the duty, everyone handles them differently. Their experiences were real and valid, but I learned that someone else’s story doesn’t make it mine.
The refining assignment
Each duty station brings unique hardships, and recruiting duty was no exception. It did, however, bring unexpected connection, resilience and memories our family will forever cherish. The duty station no one celebrated became a season that quietly strengthened us, taught us to find joy in the little moments together, and showed that we were more in control of our story than we believed.
Sometimes the hardest part of a duty station isn’t the assignment itself — it is managing the horrors we have been told and the narrative we have accepted. Recruiting duty challenged us in ways we never expected, but it also gave us memories, traditions and a stronger marriage than we imagined possible. Sometimes the assignment you think will break you is the one that refines you.
