Sitting across from my husband at our kitchen island over coffee, we began a conversation that would mark the beginning of our experience in transition and our walk towards recovering all that we had lost. “I feel completely betrayed.” The phrase hung heavy in the air as I processed the harsh words he had just spoken. The first thing I can remember thinking was the question in my mind, “Does he feel betrayed by me, the military, or the outcome of serving?” As it turns out, the answer was all three.

I had been very vocal about my hurts and hardships over the last 20 years, citing the loneliness, the frustration, and the unending sacrifices I had to make to support his career in military service. He shared that he felt betrayed because he truly thought every decision we had made over the last 20 years—from where to attempt to transfer to career moves—we had decided together. He believed that because I supported him, I would be okay with whatever the cost would be. But I shared that I felt betrayed because I could not have known what each station held, what deployments were around the corner, or just how difficult navigating all of the transitions alone would be. I was flying completely blind.

Ultimately, I think I was blaming him for all of the hardship and demanding recompense. He, on the other hand, felt blindsided by how distressed and disappointed I was in what the last two decades took from us. We found ourselves struggling to connect, stressing over money, panicked over career options, and devastated at the state of our family’s mental health after being in survival mode for nearly 20 years.

You’ve been through the firefight—now comes the real battle. It’s time to talk about the transition no one really preps you for, and why the dream of a peaceful retirement is sometimes just that—a dream.

Here are three things I wish someone had told me before we began to enter into retirement transition:

Transitioning into retirement is a complete, chaotic mess

Reintegration has nothing on the challenges of retirement seasons. We joke about how hard reintegration is, but honestly, this season has proved to be the most difficult thing we have navigated as a family. Everything is under scrutiny—the way each of you has operated, served, and contributed to the family and career. And the failures and shortcomings will be at the forefront. The fights are intense because they are riddled with unmet needs, disappointment, regret, and grief. The conversations are stressful because the uncertainty is palpable and the risk is real. I knew we would be concerned about how long his retirement/VA benefits would take to kick in, but the pressure my husband felt around finances spilled over into everything else. For months, I legitimately wondered if our marriage would survive the turmoil.

My suggestion? Prepare for the floodgates to open and for chaos to ensue. Get counseling, a chaplain, a mentor, or a more mature friend or family member to walk through this season with you. Believe me, you’ll need it.

The resentment is real

The hard truth is that there is no equal or opposite action to mirror the immense amount of sacrifices you have made. There will most likely never be a job opportunity that you will want to pursue that will require your spouse to hold down the house for 9 months to over a year while making the holiday magic, school shopping, and running the family budget with a full-time job of their own. I also think we have mistakenly believed that our sacrifices will be returned and we will get “our turn.” I have found that my family needs me now more than ever, and the “my turn” mindset wasn’t realistic for our season.

I also wasn’t prepared for how I would feel after two decades without a cohesive career, a retirement account, or even a real acknowledgment of what I had done. After voicing this frustration, my husband opened a retirement account in my name, presented me with a very meaningful gift, and lamented with me over the fact that I’m behind in my career goals. Feeling understood and known in that conversation was healing.

Essentially, know this: there isn’t really a way for our spouses to mirror our sacrifices. But they can honor them if we ask for what we want and need to feel valued.

Take time to grieve

We honestly thought retirement would be smooth sailing—that we were working toward a ceremony, a BBQ, and a normal life. But in reality, our finances were not where we wanted them to be because of 20 years of moves, broken furniture, last-minute emergencies, and crisis mitigation. Add in the inflation of living costs and housing, and we are just as tight now as we were in the beginning of our military career—something we were not planning on. We needed to grieve the opportunities we lost, the memories we missed, and the life we thought we would have by now.

The reality is that we idealized retirement and thought “the grass would be greener.” But there is cow crap on both sides. Instead of looking down the road toward retirement with rose-colored glasses, take a moment to assess the reality that the stress of the season is slightly overwhelming and have better conversations earlier. Don’t wait until one to two years out to start discussing plans or share the costs you’ve paid. Talk now, and talk often. Seek to understand, not just be understood. Cultivate gratitude where you can and grow contentment. Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best.

In the end, retirement isn’t just about leaving the service—it’s about navigating a whole new battlefield. It’s messy, it’s chaotic, and it’s filled with unexpected challenges. But with preparation, honesty, and a lot of communication, it’s possible to come out on the other side stronger and more connected than ever.