Written by
Lea Johnson
“Dreams don’t change, we just pretend we don’t want them anymore.” -Amber McBride, Me (Moth)
Uncovering Truth
This past year had weight to it. It was heavy, with edges and a darkness that was hard to see through. It settled into my bones and my joints, uninvited and unwelcomed. Spreading into my marrow like it wanted something from me.
This past year bid truth into spaces I didn’t want truth to be, flowing it deep into the parts I had been ignoring, hiding. Our first full year free from the Army. It was supposed to be light, uncaged, all mine, easy. Instead, this year showed me the parts of myself that had been hiding beyond the circumstances, the chaos, and the noise. The indignation of blame that came with unknown duty stations and unexpected separations distracted me and occupied my mind. Who knew that chaos was what was keeping me afloat—keeping me ignorant of all of the truth that hid just below? The truth that hid in the peace.
I had been dreaming for years of life outside of the Army, a life that was curated and chosen BY me, FOR my family. A life that was executed with MY opinion and MY input—not forced upon me by “Uncle Sam” for the “greater good.” This time it was for MY good. And I chose. I chose a wild dream that no one saw coming, (even me), and it terrified me. Suddenly, I had no one to blame when things went wrong, no “Army” to shake my fist at and curse for the circumstances in which I found myself.
I had only me to look at when that little boy of mine couldn’t adjust to a life on this side of the Army. Living on top of a mountain with no built in community, no one rang the doorbell asking him to play; friends are hard won out here in the “real world.” Transition is “easy” when you know the framework. I had only myself to look at when he wanted to know why it was so different, so hard.
It was my heart I had to check when I began to know my husband in ways that had nothing to do with being a hero, running off and saving the world. I told myself so many things to validate 25 years of chaos. Who were we out here? How did we relate when all our marriage had ever known was war? A truth I hid behind the heroism began to peek out, I had only myself to look at when I didn’t know how to look at him.
It was the longings of my soul I had to challenge when I was forced to find who I was outside of the context of my husband. I rode his coattails for so long… Who am I when he no longer wears coattails? When the positions don’t automatically make me interesting or sought out? I am not proud of the truths I found there, but I looked at them, and I gave them the space they wanted so I could ask them to leave.
Unboxing Freedom
I held desperately to my faith. I held onto the certainty that God wasn’t going to leave us here, desolate and alone, but I felt desolate and alone, abandoned outside of the framework I had understood so well. I knew the rules of “Army,” and I liked the game. It was hard, but it made sense to me. I knew where I fit.
So I invited in the dark edginess of 2025. I asked it to sit down with me and stay a while, to teach me things I really didn’t want to learn, knowing it was the only way through. We wrestled a lot. Sometimes, we sat in a mournful silence. Sometimes, we yelled. I cried often as I began to let it go, releasing the framework, the hero, the coattails. Sinking into the silence of a home that would be a sanctuary if I would let it. Settling into a community that would give me the deep connection I had been longing for all along.
Allowing the boundaries and context to fall away, I began to spread into this place, encouraging myself to touch it and see it…and I found that it might be good, that it could be good. I was tentative at first. I didn’t know what to say or how deep to dive in, so I dipped in a toe. I didn’t know how to extend the conversation when “what does your husband do?” didn’t suddenly invite more questions, (those I knew so well), with answers I had in my brain’s back pocket. Answers that put me right into a box, one I was comfortable being contained within. What I discovered, however, was that I didn’t have cause to reach into that back pocket anymore. In fact, people rarely ask even that initial question here—too interested in who I am outside of any context. There really are no boxes in this place, and that could be refreshing, freeing, if I would allow it to be.
Unveiling Light
A flutter of excitement and possibility began to emerge one day as I sat with the weight of it all. A small light that I took for hope glimmered at the end of the twisty road I was on. It’s there now more than the dark, bidding me to come slowly, purposefully. To let go fully before walking ahead. There is a deep peace to unwinding from a thing before plowing into the next. I am not good at this part, but I know its worth. I have never allowed myself the time and space needed to do this well.
So, I am welcoming this next year with an anticipation of newness. I will listen to my God and be guided by the One who never changes. I will sink into where I am and own what I can. I have no agenda, no framework to fit myself into, and I have my own coattails to don.
*Resources for Military Spouses Transitioning from Military Life to “Whatever’s Next”
- VSP’s “Healing through Creativity” Community: virtual workshop spaces frequently attended by milspouses currently going through or on the other side of transitions; “HTC” always includes a safe space to build community, ask questions, and learn together
- Milspouse Transition: helps milspouses navigate their financial, career, physical, social, and community wellbeing through strengths-based workshops, speaking/consulting, podcast/streams, & resource hub provision
- In*Dependent: nonprofit wellness community focused on helping milspouses “thrive though connection”
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LEA JOHNSON is the Executive Director and Development Director of Veteran’s Spouse Project (VSP) and Owner and CEO of Sliger Holdings, LLC.
Lea is a leader in community and military outreach. It was during the height of the War on Terror—while serving in the 82nd Airborne Division’s Wounded Warrior Committee and creating and managing Care Teams in support of family members experiencing trauma during deployments—when Lea’s interactions with these families revealed her passion for giving spouses safe spaces in which to express their stories. This led to her work with Veteran’s Spouse Project.
Lea holds a Masters of Science degree from the University of Florida, Gainesville in Elementary Education with a specialization in Literacy. She also holds an Executive Certificate in Transformational Nonprofit Leadership through the Mendoza School of Business at Notre Dame. Lea has taught in classrooms in both Florida and North Carolina. She is the CEO of Sliger Holdings, LLC, a real estate holding company in Port Orange, FL. She was an owner and board member of Sliger and Associates, Inc. for over 20 years. She is also the founder of the non-profit, Let it Shine Celebrations. Let It Shine provides birthday parties to families experiencing homelessness in the Fayetteville, NC community.
Lea was a proud military spouse for 21 years before her husband, Colonel (R) Johnson retired from the Army. Rick, Lea, and their three kids have settled in Eagle River, Alaska.
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