This post is dedicated to the military members, partners, and families out there. Although I do not personally know you, I see you.
As most of you know already, if you know me from outside of
The Modest Journal, my husband is leaving for his second deployment. Today.
My husband is leaving today.
Being that he is a part-time military member and a full-time police officer means that I am used to the dangers and the away from home. Until now the longest that we have been apart continuously is three months. We are now, as I'm typing this, headed for nine months apart.
Naturally, everyone asks “Are you ok?” “How are you holding up?” “What can I do for you?”. I figured the best way to answer all these questions at once, for you and for myself, is through a blog post.
No, I am not ok.
I am not holding up well.
There is nothing that you can do for me.
Scott and I have a great support network, full of people who genuinely care about what we are going through, love us, support us, and want to make our lives easier. So I mean no disrespect when I say, there is nothing you can do to make this better. You are just simply not him.
I am terrified, sad, and overwhelmed.
I am so worried for him and about him that I don't think my brain can do anything else. I'm overwhelmed by all the things that will change, that will be different, or that will now fall on my plate. I'm scared that if I allow myself to feel it all, to cry, to break down, I will never stop.
I am saddened by the fact that I will build a life/routine without him. That my new normal will be waking up alone. That there will be no Scott to watch movies with, to sing to me on my birthday, to chase me around the house when he has chaotic energy, or to open Christmas presents a day early because I just can't wait to give him his gifts any longer.
I am sad for all our animals who love him, who miss him, and who will not understand where he is. I am especially sad for our one boy who isn't home but is at work for the duration of this deployment because we miss him too. I can not wait for the day that both of my boys come home.
I am sad for his family and his friends, who won't get to hear his goofy laugh, smell Captain by Old Spice, and get one of his famous hugs.
I am sad for him, for all that will change, all that he has to give up, and all that he will have to go through.
I am just sad.
There is nothing really that can make that better. My “better” is gone.
He will come home. He has to come home.
Being someone who separates herself when she's overwhelmed, upset, or tired, I want to apologize in advance. I am going to be distant, I am going to be less involved, I am going to internalize it all and try my damndest to handle it all by myself. It is who I am and it is how I handle things. I am sorry if I am not as good of a friend, daughter, sister, niece, cousin, coach, coworker, or "any other relationship title here" in the next season of my life. I promise you that I am trying. While I may push you away please understand this, I appreciate you being there for me so much and I will come back, in my own time.
Right now, I think I just need a minute.
With all of this sadness comes a great deal of pride.
I am so proud of him.
I am so proud that nothing about this process has been smooth, easy, or clear. Yet he still manages to hold his head up.
I am so proud that he knows how hard it is going to be and is still excited because it means that he gets to help people and connect with his mission.
I am so grateful that my partner is a hero.
I am so grateful that he chose me to be by his side and to hold down things here while he's gone. I am so grateful that he is so supportive and understanding of the emotional toll that this process has taken and is willing to do whatever is in his power to help (thank you 1 Marvel movie a week until we have tackled the entire cinematic universe together).
I am so grateful for the outpouring of love we have received from our community. We could not do it without you.
All of that being said, we are sad. We are not ok, but we will be.
Throughout my self-help and self-growth journey, I have learned that it's okay to feel exactly how we feel. That we do not need to beat ourselves up and shame ourselves for feeling how we feel.
This sucks, it's horribly depressing and that's ok.
Because the day that he comes home, it will all be worth it.
274 days to go.
Love you more,
Morgan
Check this out corner:
Military One Sources guide to sending care packages to deployed soldiers. If you have any questions on what Scott might need or his address, please reach out to me.
is the passionate creator and driving force behind The Modest Journal. At 28 years old, she wears many hats as the owner, founder, CEO, and self-described "resident words girl."
For Morgan, words are more than just communication—they are her love language, her means of storytelling, and a source of inspiration for others. Her blog is a testament to her desire to merge her passions into a single creative outlet, aiming to bring joy and provoke thought through her words.
Whether she's impacting, inspiring, or offering a fresh perspective, Morgan hopes her writing resonates deeply with her audience.