Contestant's Info

Creative Submission

Through Every Storm

I know that every military family's life is shaped by uncertainty.

Long separations, constant moves, leaving everything behind to start over, again and again. To other people, these are possibilities, things that might happen by chance. But for military families, they are inevitabilities, woven into the very fabric of our lives. And those inevitabilities demand an extraordinary level of resilience.

For my family, resilience is built on one thing: connection. In a life where everything is subject to change, one year on the West Coast, the next in another country, our bond remains constant. It's the unwavering understanding that no matter where we are or what challenges come our way, we face them together. In unpredictability, our support for one another is the one thing we can always count on.

Like the sudden announcements of deployment. Every time my dad had to leave, it was like watching the sky darken before a storm. The weeks leading up to his departure were filled with quiet preparations, not just packing, but bracing ourselves emotionally. We squeezed in every family dinner, every hug, every movie night as if we could store up love to last through the months apart. But goodbyes never got easier. I hated them. Still do.

The hardest part wasn’t watching him walk away; it was the silence that followed. The space he left behind in our home, the empty seat at the table. Over the years, I learned to live with it, to adapt. Because even though he was gone, we were never truly disconnected. Calls, texts, video chats, small lifelines that reminded me distance couldn't weaken our bond. He knew I loved him, and I knew he loved me just as much. And the thought of him returning, of holding on just a little longer until he was back, made the struggle worth it. Yes, watching him leave was like the sky darkening before a storm, but after every storm, the sun always shines again.

And then, there were the moves. The new schools, unfamiliar neighborhoods, and different routines. Standing in a crowded cafeteria without a single familiar face. Missing the home we left behind. There were moments of loneliness, of feeling uprooted before we had a chance to settle. But my family taught me something invaluable: home isn’t a place. It’s the people who anchor you when everything else is in motion.

So, we built our own traditions. Ones that followed us wherever we went. Weekend movie nights with the same favorite show, our own special "P" parties where we only eat food that starts with "p", and the way we always unpacked family photos first in every new house to make it feel like home. These small constants gave us something solid to hold onto when everything else was shifting.

Resilience isn’t about never feeling lost or afraid. It’s about facing those feelings and knowing you’re not alone in them. It’s in the whispered “I miss you” on a 2 a.m. phone call, the silent understanding in a hug when words fail, the strength we find in each other when the world feels overwhelming.

Military life teaches you that change is inevitable. But in my family, one thing never changes. Our connection to each other. My family is what holds me through every storm that passes by.

And that, more than anything else, is what makes us resilient.