This Is What A Veteran Looks Like

Today I'm running in a shirt that says:

THIS IS WHAT A VETERAN LOOKS LIKE.

I've always loved that phrase.

Because apparently, I don't.

At least not to everyone.

I've lost count of the number of times someone has assumed my husband is the veteran.

To be fair, he is.

He served in the Marine Corps.

But so did I.

Not in the Marine Corps - I don't like the way crayons taste.

I joined the United States Army at 18 years old. I served with XVIII Airborne Corps. I deployed in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom.

I wore the uniform.

I raised my right hand.

I served my country.

And more than two decades later, there are still moments when someone learns that I'm a veteran and I can see the surprise register on their face.

You?

Yep.

Me.

What Does A Veteran Look Like?

Close your eyes and picture a veteran.

Who did you see?

Don't correct yourself.

I'm not asking because there's a right answer. I'm asking because our first answer tells us something.

For generations, the image of an American veteran has overwhelmingly been male.

There's a reason for that. Historically, most people who served were men.

But the veteran community has changed.

And sometimes our mental picture hasn't caught up.

Women have served in every era of American military history.

We have deployed.

Led.

Been wounded.

Come home.

Raised families.

Built careers.

Struggled.

Succeeded.

Carried things home with us.

And taken off the uniform only to discover that sometimes, without it, people stop seeing the soldier who wore it.

I've experienced that.

And there is something strangely complicated about becoming invisible inside a community you earned your place in.

"Are You Here With Your Husband?"

Women veterans know versions of this moment.

You walk into a veteran space and someone assumes you're the spouse.

You park in a veteran-designated parking spot and get a second look - or in my case a guy yells out from his truck "that spot is for our heros you can't park there!"

Someone sees a military plate and assumes it belongs to the man driving the other car.

You mention the VA and someone asks who in your family served.

Sometimes it's funny.

Sometimes it's irritating.

Sometimes you correct them.

Sometimes you don't have the energy.

But every one of those tiny interactions communicates something about who we collectively imagine when we use the word Veteran.

And representation matters for reasons much bigger than getting credit for having served.

Being Seen Changes What We Build

If we don't see women as veterans, we don't always build veteran systems with women in mind.

We don't ask the right questions.

We don't design the right programs.

We don't recognize the experiences that may be different for women who served.

And sometimes women themselves don't recognize that the resources, benefits, communities, and spaces labeled "for Veterans" belong to them too.

This is where today's conversation starts connecting to some of the harder ones I'm going to have during these 72 days.

Because there are parts of women's military experiences that have historically been much easier not to talk about.

Military sexual trauma (MST) is one of them - and MST isn't reserved just for women, I do know that.

It's part of my story.

And eventually, I'm going to tell you more about that.

But before I tell you what happened to me while I wore the uniform, I want you to see the person who wore it.

I was eighteen.

I was young.

I was proud.

I was capable.

I was someone's battle buddy.

I had a job.

I had a mission.

I had people counting on me.

I was a soldier.

I was not the thing that happened to me.

And I'm still not.

This Is What a Veteran Looks Like

That's why I like this shirt.

THIS IS WHAT A VETERAN LOOKS LIKE.

It isn't really a statement about me.

It's a challenge to the picture in our heads.

Because this is what a veteran looks like.

So is my husband.

So is the 80-year-old Vietnam veteran.

So is the 24-year-old woman pushing a stroller.

So is the guy wearing the veteran hat at Giant Eagle.

So is the woman sitting next to you at church.

So is the person running a business.

Teaching your kid.

Working at the hospital.

Coaching softball.

Sitting beside you at a restaurant.

Veterans don't have a look.

We have stories.

And over the next 68 days, I want to tell more of them.

Not because veterans need to be placed on a pedestal.

But because people deserve to be seen for who they actually are.

Yesterday I wrote that I'm still becoming.

That's true.

I'm a mom.

A researcher.

An entrepreneur.

A community builder.

A survivor.

A person whose faith has carried her through seasons she never expected to walk through.

And underneath all those versions of me is still an eighteen-year-old girl who raised her right hand and became a soldier.

She belongs in the picture too.

This is what a veteran looks like.

Actually—

we all do.

Now I want to see yours.

If you're a veteran, post a picture of yourself today, whatever you're doing, wherever you are.

No uniform required.

Tag me and use #72DaysOfShowingUp and #ThisIsWhatAVeteranLooksLike.

I want to fill my Stories with the faces of the veteran community.

Because maybe the best way to change the picture people have in their heads is simply to show them a different one.