Toxic family tradition did you break that cost you everything? In my family, everyone joins the military. Not just serve, they make it their whole identity.
My grandfather was a marine for 30 years. My dad retired as an army colonel. My uncle died in Desert Storm.
And all three of my cousins enlisted right out of high school. When I told them I wanted to be a nurse, my dad didn't yell. Worse, he got real quiet, then said, No son of mine is going to wipe old people's asses for a living. I'd always been the odd one out.
While my cousins played war games in the backyard, I was the one bandaging their scrapes when they got hurt. When family dinners turned into debates about which branch was superior, I'd zone out thinking about the volunteer work I did at the local hospital. But in our family, not enlisting wasn't just disappointing.
It was like spitting on our name. My mom tried to find middle ground. What about becoming a medic? Or work at the VA?
But I wanted to help people without rank or uniforms involved. The real breaking point was my 18th birthday. Instead of cake, my dad put enlistment papers on the table.
When I pushed them away, he slid over a duffel bag. You've got until morning to sign these. Or you can use this to pack your stuff. I was out by dawn.
I crashed on a friend's couch, finished high school, and worked nights at a gas station. station to save for community college. Got my nursing degree after five tough years of working and studying. My first job was at County General, the understaffed hospital where rich people avoid going. The other nurses warned me I'd burn out fast.
We were always short-staffed, underpaid, and dealing with the hardest cases. One patient, Dave, reminded me of my dad. Same crew cut, same stubbornness, same tattoos from his unit. He was a Vietnam vet with Agent Orange complications and PTSD so bad he'd fought three orderlies. When I learned he'd served in my dad's old unit, I nearly requested a transfer.
That's exactly what my family would have expected. But